


Jar of Hearts

by Destinyawakened, SeaOfEmpathy, You_Are_As_Alone_As_I_Am



Series: Adapt. Evolve. Become. [1]
Category: Hannibal (TV), Rejseholdet | Unit One
Genre: #EatTheRare, Anal Finger, Anal Sex, Bath Sex, Bathroom Sex, Blood, Blood Play, Bloodlust, Blow Jobs, Bottom!Allan, Bottom!Gui, Clones, Craving, Daddy Kink, EatTheRare, Fucking, Gui is Will Graham's young clone, M/M, Mile High Club, Murder, Plane sex, Shower Sex, Spanking, Switching, Top!Gui, Torture, Violence, anthony dimmond is a clone, blood sports, hannigram AU, lots and lots of fucking, marriage proposals, sex sex sex, shameless flirting, shameless sex, tagged hannigram but actually a huge AU and rarepair, top!Allan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-10
Updated: 2017-03-20
Packaged: 2018-08-14 08:01:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 11
Words: 102,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8004946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Destinyawakened/pseuds/Destinyawakened, https://archiveofourown.org/users/SeaOfEmpathy/pseuds/SeaOfEmpathy, https://archiveofourown.org/users/You_Are_As_Alone_As_I_Am/pseuds/You_Are_As_Alone_As_I_Am
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Guillaume Gramercy is a twenty-four year old assassin clone of Will Graham. Allan Fischer is a Danish special agent in the US going through the FBI training program. they meet and what starts out as a primal sexual attraction turns into an impenetrable, unquenchable love, a connection that goes beyond the physical. They cannot live without each other, and anyone that gets between them will very likely, absolutely, die.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> 1) Not beta'd. We did a hell of a lot of editing, but things do slip by.  
> 2)Taken from our RP and fixed up.  
> 3) We're on Tumblr if you want to folllow us! [SeaOfEmpathy](http://seaofempathy.tumblr.com)  
> 4) Translations will be at the end of each chapter for the Danish used!  
> 5) Art work was done by the wonderful [The Tuxedos](http://thetuxedos.tumblr.com/tagged/my+art)

 

“You are perfect, my boy. The epitome of youth and beauty,” the doctor says, looking good over his latest creation, a young man cloned from the very likes of his long since dead lover. The clone was not made to replace, but to be a swift and mighty sword against those who took his love from him.

The idea was to bring to life the very essence of Will Graham as a youthful and lithe man many would never see as more than, and yet their screams would be the terror of realization as the boy cut them down to size. Clones could be programmed, taught, and honed to many attributes. This one would be as silent as a ninja and just as skilled, and always learning.

The clone stares at his creator with large doe blue eyes, unnerving, cold, and calculated under dark, heavy lashes. Yes, indeed, he is perfect. Hannibal Lecter cups the back of the boy's head, a fond gesture, the only one he’ll give.

“Guillaume, go. Find them, kill them, and report back to me,” the doctor states, a command. The boy turns on booted heel, and nodding his head of shaggy brown curls, and walks out, snatching up the hunting knife from the table and sheathes it to his belt, not a word said otherwise.

***

The streets are littered with people, so many the boy isn't really sure where to start. He's given no direction, he only knows from implanted information and memories of Will Graham what the people look like. There would be a few of them. A woman and two men, working for the FBI, which means harder to kill, harder to find. Guillaume is up for the challenge, ready to find, serve, and enjoy their wretched pain.

What he doesn't know is Graham's last memories, how he died, or why. It hardly seems to matter to his creator, so long as he gets the job done. Should he get the job done, the boy is promised some sort of real life. If he fails, well, death is certain at the creator’s hand or someone else's. Gui prefers to live and learn, but death could be an awfully fun adventure, too.

On the streets, Gui quickly learns that his youth and beauty makes him a target to certain people, certain men that want nothing more than to take absolute advantage. His first encounter wasn't pleasing, and he kills the man before anything starts, a knife in his throat, his blood spilling all over the back alley in droves, painting cruddy cement with crimson streaks. It's unfortunate, but the boy feels nothing for the loss, and the fear of death had come and gone too quickly to be enjoyed. A mental note, that perhaps he should lure one to his crappie apartment first and pull the fear from them slowly.

So he does. He lures another less than pleasing looking man into his apartment, and the man looms over him ten fold in height and weight, but manages to convince him to come closer to his wall of ropes and chains he's set up. Binding the man was simple, promising him things Gui had never done before and will not be doing now.

“C’mon, boy, just suck me off, stop playing games,” the man says, but Gui is still fully dressed and the man is not. He struggles when Gui just stares at his ruddy face, he is getting angry and annoyed fast, tugging on the restrains with no avail.

“Hush or you will die now.” Gui walks over and the man snarls at him on realizing he's been set up, there's no sex involved here.

“You some sicko or something, kid? Fuck just let me go I won't touch ya.”

Gui doesn't believe him for a second, and his struggle makes his skin crawled with delight, feeling out his fear with the empathy he has, and taking pleasure in _that._ He slips a knife from his pocket and walks around the man, never once close enough to touch if he ebbed backwards or forwards. Gui slips the knife into the back of the man's thighs, taking in his howl of pain that echoes the walls beautifully.

“Fuck! When I get down from here, I'm gonna kill you, you little shit-” the man starts to curse and moan, and Gui makes another cut into his other thigh, bleeding get him out slowly, blood splattering against the floorboards, staining it red.

The louder the man gets, the more Gui feels spikes of lust coil through him, but the man isn't anything he desires physically, he finds out, and so he slices his throat open and leaves him die.

Gui takes the body and dumps it. Doesn't matter where, he doesn't care. Two bodies now, and he's done playing around, he had to find some the agents responsible for Graham's death.

***

Weeks in, Gui managed to take one agent down, but the rest of the time he's used his time to explore his sexuality. He's fucked a few, finding he enjoys being fucked more, but he keeps his dominance, as he feels people will try to overpower him and he can't have that. He especially loves older men, not too old, but bigger than himself, powerful and commanding, as he likes to prove his worth and hidden strength over them.

On keeping track of one of the other agents he needs to kill, Gui eyes someone new, someone not from around here, but definitely with the FBI, a trainee maybe, hard to tell.

When the man is alone, Gui slips his knife into his pocket, and takes a walk closer, wanting to see, wanting to feel him out, though he tells himself the dark haired man is trouble, that he'll get _himself_ in trouble, he can't help but wander ever closer. He keeps to the shadows, following the man and his partners around, and starts to wonder if getting close is too dangerous, or just what he needs to get his job done.

Gui follows them around for hours, never once seen, and he’s still not sure what choice to make. He does know he’s starving. The man and the other agents hit a bar and grill after hours, and Gui decides that as good a time as any to scrounge around for food in the dumpsters around back of the joint. He fishes out some half eaten burger and leans against the wall to eat it, no one really paying him much mind.

“No, I'm calling it a night, thanks guys. See you tomorrow,“ the man calls out as he exits the bar. He walks down the sidewalk and reaches inside his leather jacket for his smokes, pulling one out. He stops beside a dark alley and holds his hand over the flame of his lighter, inhaling, when something catches his eye.

“Hello?” He calls into the darkness. He senses someone is there, catching the shape of a shadow, too lithe and active to be just a bum.

Even though he can’t be seen right off, Gui feels as though the man’s amber gaze is looking right into him. He drops the scraps from his makeshift meal and kicks it behind him. Wiping at his mouth with his sleeve, he tilts his head slightly, watching the other man for a moment. He’d planned on following him, not being seen just yet. Plans change. Gui steps out slowly from the shadows of the dark alley.

“Hello,” Gui says, quietly, looking the man over now that he had a much better view of him.

The agent sees the boy emerge from the shadows and is taken aback. Before him stands a young man with lush chocolate brown curls, wide blue eyes, dressed in black, and beautiful enough to have walked straight out of one of his old college art books. His training allows him to remain relatively reserved in his appreciative gaze, and he takes a drag on his cigarette casually.

“Hey,” The man says, peering down the alley to see if anyone else is down there. “Need some help?” He taps his smoke with a long finger.

“That stuff'll kill ya,” Gui replies, wrinkling his nose at the smell. He doesn’t leave; he stays right where he is, looking the other man over intently. "And, it's gross." Gui is, if anything, blunt and honest.

The man smirks, amused. "Nice of you to show concern for strangers. But, good thing I'm not trying to impress you," The taller man chuckles, exhaling pointedly.

"Maybe you _should,_ if you want to keep your tongue." Gui’s smile fades, replaced by a dark glint in his eyes. He takes a step forward, circling the man, his hands behind his back. With all his empathy, though not a mind reader, Gui can tell this agent finds him intriguing, if only based on his looks.

The older man looks Gui up and down, smirking, dark eyes following him. His curiosity is peaked, and by more than just the pretty face. "Is that so? I’d better be careful, “ he remarks lightly. Clearly the kid didn’t know who he is: a detective sergeant with Denmark’s elite mobile police task force, and currently enrolled in the FBI’s training program. It wasn’t an easy feat to get in, either. The boy is unaware, and it’s best to keep it that way for now.

Gui knows condescending when he hears it, and also knows when things aren’t worth the effort. "You should be."  
  
The older man leans up against the wall behind him. The boy seems too young for such a violent attitude. He smirks and casts his eyes down at the pavement, a little abashed, tossing the cigarette out. “I'm Allan. Allan Fischer," he offers his hand in greeting.

Gui was left without a few vital manners, though most are instilled in only the way his creator could. He looks at Allan’s hand, and then up the length of his arm until he reaches his eyes again. Slowly, he extends his own hand to take Allan’s. “Guillaume,” he replies, very softly. “Call me Gui.”

"Nice to meet you. So, I should be trying to impress you, then? Why is that?" Fischer crosses his arms over his broad chest.

“You don't have to. Might save your life, might not." Gui grins. There’s something unsettling about the young man, who really seems more like a boy with his disturbingly good looks, young and angelic, conveying innocence that doesn’t quite meet his eyes when looked into long enough.

Fischer blinks, momentarily incredulous at Gui’s statement, but recovers with an easy-going smile. He wishes he had his old partner La Cour here, but his own instincts tell him something's off. "You're in the business of saving lives and separating men from their tongues then, yes?"

Gui shrugs, though he had his hand in his pocket, fingers around a the hilt of his favorite knife. This one--this man--might bleed pretty.  “Could be.”

Fischer notices the boy’s hand stuffed in his pocket; he could be armed. He’s not interested in provoking him, and he doesn't need more on his record. He nods dryly. "Better to be the one on the right end of the knife, I'd guess.”

"Right," Gui says, narrowing his eyes on the man. Yeah, blood was going to look very nice on him.

Fischer raises his brows. "Well, I'm going to go get myself a drink. I'd offer you one, but I'm not sure you're old enough," Fischer winks cheekily, trying to diffuse tension. He turns to walk back inside the pub, looking over his shoulder to see if the boy will follow him inside. The rest of his colleagues have filtered out by now, having moved on for the night.

"Alcohol will only thin your blood, which will make you bleed out faster," Gui quips, following after Fischer, leaving the knife in his pocket.

Fischer laughs and stops before reaching the bar to look behind him at the kid. His voice drops an octave. "Hey, what's your deal? Do you talk to everyone this way?"

"Yes," Gui whispers back. For the boy, it helps to weed out the ones that aren’t worth his time; he has better things to do. Fischer, it just so happens, is the link to a few agents he needs to get to, and very good-looking.

"Ever find that puts you in difficult circumstances? With the wrong man, it could prove dangerous."

"I like difficult _and_ dangerous." Gui is unafraid of dying; pain doesn’t scare him. It’s hard to threaten someone so carefree and unknowing of the dangers of the world and how permanent death really is.

"Challenges keep you sharp. Want a beer, Gui?" Fischer asks. He has to admit, he’s impressed by the kid, and growing more attracted to him with every passing minute.

Gui pauses and blinks his big blue eyes; people don't usually ask him for drinks, or anything for that matter. "Yes?"

Sauntering up to the bar, Fischer orders two beers. The barback nods at the boy, barking gruffly. “Need to see his I.D.”  Fischer looks pointedly at Gui. The angelic looking kid pulls out his identification, complete with his full name and date of birth, and however fake it might be, it passes under the blacklight like magic. The man narrows beady eyes at the card, and satisfied, hands it back to the boy. He cracks two domestics open, sliding them down the smooth countertop.

Fischer hands one to Gui, tipping the bottle towards him, and smiles with shark-like fangs. "To staying sharp, yes?"

Gui wraps his long, slender fingers around the ice-cold bottle, bringing it up to his lips to taste, sliding the bubbly liquid past pink lips. It’s not terrible, but definitely not whiskey. "Yes."

Fischer can tell from his face that he's never had beer before, and chuckles, turning away from the bar. He leans in close to Gui’s ear and drops his voice to a whisper. "No offense, but is that I.D. legit?"

"Technically I'm twenty-four," Gui says, sipping his beer and licking his lips.

"Technically..." Fischer grins, looking him up and down slowly, taking in the boy’s form, not sure what to expect out of his mouth next. Fischer takes a long swig, gulping it down. "So, what do you do, Gui? “

"I torture and kill people," Gui says, honestly,  finding himself thoroughly enjoying it. "Like what you see?" He bats his pretty, long, dark lashes at Fischer coyly.

Fischer chokes on his last sip of beer, coughing and looking away. He peers back at the boy in surprise, and smirks like a cat with a bird caught in his teeth. He has no time no react to the first statement; the second one has him in shock. "What the fuck? Well, you're direct."

"I don't beat around things, just people," Gui says, with a charming, toothy grin. "You didn't answer."

Fischer takes another drink, his gaze drifting from Gui’s lips up to his eyes. "Most men that actually torture and kill people don't advertise it."

"Maybe I'm lying. Maybe I'm not," Gui replies, aloof in his answer. He shrugs slim shoulders, small and tiny, but there's more power to him than meets the eye.  
  
Fischer wraps his mouth around the glass bottle and swallows, staring a little too long. "I believe you. I’m not willing to test the truth, though it could be fun." He winks and licks foam from his plush lips.

"Torture, you mean? Some people like it. Pain is exhilarating," Gui says, and finishes off the beer, liking it more than he thought he might.

The older man raises his eyebrows again. "Ahh so, you mean pain when fucking? Kinky shit? Yes, some do." Fischer smiles seductively.

 _Well, that’s nice too._ "Pain in general. Watching others suffer, I like it." _Try that on for size,_ Gui thinks, humming a little to himself.

"A sadist. You sound like my boss," Fischer jokes, draining his bottle and taking a beat to really look Gui over. He leans on a barstool, closer to the boy. "Want another? As long as I'm buying?”

"I have money if you're worried," Gui says, since what he talks about is mostly for work anyway. He gets paid to fuck people over who might have fucked over someone else. It's fun. He leans back in toward Fischer.

"Not worried. Just being friendly to a dangerous man I want on my side, if I need it." Fischer’s tone  isn’t sarcastic for once. If anything he’s genuine, which is a good thing, since most people never take Gui seriously. That leaves Fischer in very precarious position, as Gui usually leaves his men dead or dying.

"One more then," Gui says, giving the man a once over for good measure, sizing him up and putting away to memory all his weak spots and even his favorite ones, so far.

Fischer orders two more, which are served up quickly. The barkeep gives Gui a pointed look, and the boy only smiles back. Fischer deliberately brushes his fingers against the boy’s knuckles, handing over the bottle. Their skin touches for a mere second, but it’s long enough for the electric attraction to shoot down Gui’s spine. He can tell Fischer’s felt it too.

 _This could be something_ , Fischer tells himself, _or perhaps not_. The kid admitted to torturing and killing people, and everything else about him set off alarms. Noticing the way the boy is eyeballing him, he decides to take the charming approach. "Like what you see?"

"Yeah." Gui isn't afraid of losing anything, and he's pretty sure Allan would look good covered in welts from a whip-- bleeding. The thought alone makes his blood turn hot.

Fischer is trained to fight, and physically dwarfs this boy; even if he's armed, he won't be for long. _But min gud, those lips and those eyes,_ he thinks to himself. He steps closer, invading his space. He finishes the beer in one long swallow, close enough that Gui can see the bob of his Adam’s apple. "So, what do you want to do about that?" the agent asks.

Gui's not even touched his second beer, but his blue gaze settles on Allan's mouth. The man could probably deck him, but Gui would like that; he'd like anything violent. Gui takes a long swig of the beer, but doesn't let his gaze falter. "There's a lot I could do about that."

Fischer lets his gaze drift heavily from his full pout and down his long neck, up to those big blue eyes. Too pretty for a boy. Prettier than Mille? _Yes, oh definitely, yes_ . _Get it together Fischer,_ he thinks to himself frantically. He licks his lips. "You think so, hmm?"

"I _know_ so." Gui’s gotten under the man's skin already, he can see it--the longing and lust. Gui's angelic-like features entrap many, usually to their deaths. Gui has no reason to want Allan dead yet. He finishes his beer in a few hefty gulps and sets the bottle down with a gentle tap.

Fischer lays a couple of singles on the bar, and turns on his heel, placing his hand in the small of Gui’s back. He guides him outside back to the alley they’d met in, his face slightly flushed. Once in the alley, Gui sidles up to the other man, on his toes, and slips fingers into his belt loops.

Fischer exhales heavily through his nose. It's getting harder to focus; he slides his large hands up to the boy's collar and grabs him roughly by his lapels. He pulls him up, whispering, lips close to his face. "You're not trying to tease me, are you?"

A smile slips across Gui's face, watching the other man closely. "No. Not if you're serious." Gui walks his fingers up the other man's stomach to his chest.

Fischer presses Gui up against the wall behind them, pushing his knee between his legs. He stares down at the boy with a burning, blood-red gaze. "I think I'm pretty fucking serious, don't you?"

A laugh escapes Gui's mouth at that, he's genuinely amused. "Oh yes." He's submitting, curious and turned on. A flush rosies his cheeks, giving the boy an even younger youthful glow.

Fischer leans in, capturing the provocative mouth in his own. He sucks in his top lip, biting it. Slipping his hands down Gui’s lean body - surprisingly muscular for his small frame - he feels for any weapons, and locates the knife. He deftly pulls it out, tossing it away.

Gui grips tight into the other man's shirt; he is hardly completely disarmed, but allows it for now. He likes this one. The boy groans something wretched against Allan's mouth as he kisses him back. "I wasn't going to use that on you." _Yet_.

“You’d be in a fucking world of trouble if you did. I’m a cop. A pretty thing like _you_ wouldn’t last very long in prison.” Fischer runs his palms down to Gui's ass and squeezes, raising him up, and grinding slowly. _Jesus._ He’s already hard. Gui felt it. “For satan,” Fischer growls, before sliding his tongue around that sweet mouth. _The only way to get rid of temptation is to yield to it_ is his motto, and besides, it would give him a chance to find out more about this ‘torturing and killing’ business. “Come with me. Down the street, to my hotel. We’ll have more privacy.”  
  
Gui is more than happy to give and take here, being used or not. He'll deal as good at he gets. Knife-less now, he'll compromise. Gui fists Allan's shirt, kissing his reply into his hot mouth slowly. "Take me."

Fischer manages to wrest himself away from the boy’s gorgeous mouth. He clamps a large hand on the back of his neck to lead him. "Good. Come on." Out of habit, he reaches a hand in his breast pocket to pull out his smokes, but looks over at those eyes again and puts them back with a wince. "I'll refrain, for now. Fucking want one but not if..." He grunts and walks, guiding them down the street.

"Worried 'bout cigarette breath?" Gui asks, letting the man lead since he had no idea where they're going, but he's remembering the path they take, committing it to memory just in case.

"I should worry about _not_ impressing you. I disarmed you, but I’m not taking chances, like I said before. Besides," Fischer stops to kiss him again, sliding his hand from the back of Gui's neck to his jaw firmly. "You taste too good."

Gui smirks against Allan's mouth, nipping at his bottom lip promisingly. His knife is hardly his greatest weapon, as Allan was already falling for the thing that made Gui very dangerous. "One would say you live dangerously."

Fischer doesn't answer, just smiles enigmatically and walks on. They arrive at a cheap-looking hotel, and Fischer pulls the keys out of his pocket. He fumbles a bit, dropping them. Casting a self-deprecating grin at Gui, he opens the door, nodding to let the younger man in first. Take-out debris, empty cigarette cartons, and beer bottles litter the room. “Sorry about the mess,” Fischer says, shrugging off his leather coat and tossing it on the chair nearby.

No fucks given, it seems, but Gui's own place is hardly much better, living out of a hole in the wall apartment on a mattress. The boy looks around and then lets his gaze settle on Allan. "You're not that sorry."

Fischer’s amber eyes devour this glorious wonder, starting at his feet and ascending admiringly. He hums deeply. "Nope." He stalks towards Gui, crowding him against the door, and takes the boy by his wrists, lifting his arms over his head. His gaze burns, and Fischer dips his head low, ensnaring luscious lips and licking insistently into his mouth.

Fingers curl against his palms as Gui returns the heated kiss, lavishing his tongue against Fischer's, seeking to taste every last bit of him, beer and stale cigarettes, and something else uniquely the man. Most are on their knees for Gui by now, but the boy finds he likes this just as much.

A loud buzz cuts through the air from Fischer's jacket pocket. He releases Gui's wrists, looking away in a huff. "Fuck. Just- just a minute." He grabs the coat, pulls out the phone, and answers. "Yeah? Jeg kan ikke tale nu. (sigh) Jeg ringer til dig senere. Det er forretning. Yeah." He looks back at Gui, tossing the phone back on the chair. "Shut the fucking thing off. Where were we?"

Gui waits, mildly turned on by the foreign language - okay maybe more than mildly - and pulls Fischer against him again when he's close enough. He kisses him hard, palming down the front of his pants slowly. "Right here."

“Living dangerously,” the other man purrs.

Fischer unbuttons Gui's shirt and pushes it off his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor. He inhales sharply, taking in the warm, pink skin and smattering of hair circling flat, rosy nipples. The way the boy is pressing into him drives him wild; he groans and grabs a fistful of curls, pulling his head back to expose his neck. Fischer starts at the hollow of his throat; hot, open, wet kisses with just enough teeth, grazing against his pulse, moving up languidly. He reaches his ear, where he worries one lobe between pointed fangs, first delicately, then a little harder. His hands brush down to Gui's fly, thumbing it open.

Gui lets out a small groan as his flesh is abused from neck to ear, and starts to feel too hot even in his own skin. He skims Allan's hard length over his pants and undoes the fly and button, reaching in to grasp. "Bite harder."

 _"Fuck."_ The contact of Gui’s hand spikes Fischer's blood, fills his cock, swelling it fat and thick in his grip. He tugs the boy’s pants down over his slender hips. "Have to get you out of these," he whispers raggedly against the smaller man's neck, sinking his teeth into the tender skin.

Gui kicks the pants down and off, the boy bare under his jeans, all slender, lean muscle just waiting to be marked up. He pushes Allan's jeans off, and nimble fingers start to undo his shirt, eyes darkening with lust as he watches the splay of chest hair with hungry eagerness.

Staring down at Gui, Fischer takes in every inch of bare skin. He wants to touch everything all at once. Picking him up around his waist, he carries the boy to the king-size bed, where he throws him down and crawls between his legs. Lifting a muscular calf over his shoulder, he kisses tenderly until he reaches Gui's inner thigh. He paints deliberate licks up his leg, casting a heated glance up, before sinking his teeth into the tender flesh, hard enough to draw blood. Fischer laths his tongue over the bite, his other hand sliding up the young, taut, smooth stomach. "Maybe you're not the only one who likes to torture, hmm?" he pants out breathlessly.

Gui loves the rough kind, the sort who want to fight back, and right now he'll let Allan have his way, as the boy is worked up enough to let the man taste and prod, bite and lick all he wants. It might keep him coming back, or at least begging; he'll show Allan torture later on. "Horrid and rotten," Gui murmurs, muscular thighs spread and clenched up over the other man's shoulders, trapping his head between his legs. Fingers diligently card through Fischer's hair, giving a playful tug.

Fischer looks up; he’s hard as a rock, leaking against the mattress. _Goddamn it this boy's eyes_ ; they seem to reach into his chest and seize his heart. Everything about this unearthly beauty makes him feel as though he is being possessed. He grins, blood stains marking his teeth, and moves up his body like a predator. He lays on top of him, and wraps a calloused hand around both of their cocks, stroking together. He rubs his voluptuous lips over Gui’s tempting throat, biting again, marking him and groaning roughly. He rocks his hips in rhythm with his strokes.

Gui runs hot fingers and hands down Allan's broad frame, scraping blunt nails against bronze skin, hard enough to leave welts in their wake. Fischer's blood rises with lust as scratches rake across his flesh. Gui groans, gazing up at Fischer, one hand holding the back of his head, keeping him there as he bites marks into his pearly skin. "God, _fuck._ "

The older man rolls directly on top of Gui, moving to trap his arms beneath. Canting his hips, he ruts his cock against Gui's, the friction building a thick, slow heat that coils in his balls heavily. Fischer’s chest hair brushes across the boy's nipples. He moans guttural curses in Danish. "For helvede..."

Gui doesn't know what the fuck he's saying, but he can continue to say it. He bites a kiss into Fischer’s mouth, panting low breaths against his lips, and wraps long legs around Fischer's hips, legs and balls sliding and slapping, dribbles of pre-come slathered between them. Fischer has his lips against Gui's, feeding from his open mouth, every sweet noise the boy emits driving him nearer to the edge. Gui wishes he could rip right into the other man's chest and eat his heart whole right there.

Fischer thrusts hard, hips snapping in a frenzy, and he desperately doesn't want to come yet, but he can't stop. It feels too good, and _fuck_ , but he hasn't felt this on fire since...well, in a long time. He's embarrassingly close. Before he can even say anything, he's shooting hot come all over the boy's belly, between them; thick drops that go all the way up to his chest.

 _Hottest thing in the world_ , Gui thinks, and it’s sweetly slippery and sticky between them now. He bites Fischer's bottom lip hard enough to bleed. He's still painfully hard, but ache is almost worth it to see the man over him come undone like that.

Fischer gasps breathlessly, his chest flushed red with exertion. He's actually blushing, looking down at the beautiful face of this wicked angel. He grins and slides down his body, leaving wet kisses and lapping up his own come from the smooth skin. He lays a trail of hot kisses all the way down to the thick nest of dark pubic between Gui's thighs. Roughly pushing his legs apart, Fischer hooks the boy’s ankles behind his head, moving his full lush lips further down. He pulls up Gui's fat, full balls and laps one into his mouth, rolling it around slowly. He exhales hot breath over the base of his cock before pressing his tongue flat along the ridge and all the way up. Gripping the base in his hand, he tugs the foreskin up with the front of his lips, up over the head. Fischer is enjoying himself, feasting on this decadent beauty, and glances up with hooded eyes to observe the boy’s reactions.

Gui's mouth falls slack, panting hard as he watches Allan enjoy himself in his actions. Gui rolls and bucks, heat spreading through thighs quickly, tugging on dark strands of the other man's hair. Finally, he comes, in what feels like droves, down the agent's throat.

As the pulsating orgasm throbs in his mouth, Fischer holds Gui's cock tight against his throat. He swallows the salty, sweet come, pulling off him gently. He shifts himself off the bed, and strides naked across the room to grab his leather jacket. "Now, I _am_ going to have a smoke. Sorry, darling." Fischer winks at the boy, fishes out his cigarettes and lights up.

Gui lays back against the covers of the dingy bed, and rolls to his side, watching Fischer, enamored with him, for now. "If you must." He rakes a hand through his damp curls.

Fischer sits in the chair, tapping on the ashtray. He spreads his legs, elbows relaxed on the armrests, and just stares. A smitten expression washes across his face which, surprisingly, he doesn't try to hide; maybe he can't. "Where did you come from, Gui?" he asks, taking in the big blue eyes, long thick eyelashes, and the wet curls sticking against alabaster skin and dewy cheeks. Almost cherubic for someone who 'tortures and kills'. _Really_ , he chuckles to himself.

"No one believes me when I tell them," Gui says, not unaware that Allan reminds him of a younger version of his creator, at least in looks. Maybe there's something to that, maybe not. Fischer smiles, looks down, and bites his lip between his teeth, exhaling smoke. "I've heard everything. Why don't you try me?"

"I'm a clone," Gui says, not expecting the other to believe him. "Born and raised quickly, programmed a certain way to like certain things, to _do_ certain things."

A smile spreads across Fischer's face until he sees the kid's unchanged expression. "Are you serious? I'm not...not mocking you, but are you serious?"

"Yes." The boy rolls over to gather his jeans, pilfering through the pockets for his phone. He brings up the name Will Graham, and pictures to follow, handing it over to Allan to see.

Fischer takes the phone, looking at the photos. It's an older man, closer to his own age, but the very image of Gui. He couldn't be a twin. Could be a brother, but the resemblance is uncanny...it's him, just older, with a beard and glasses; some scars. This man looks like he’s lived a very painful, difficult life. He’s not young and perfect like Gui. Fischer hands him the phone, looking him in the eye soberly. "I believe you. So, how did you grow up? In a hospital? It sounds cruel. In a lab? Who...who cloned you, why?" Fischer puffs away, examining Gui with concern.

"A lab of sorts. A big tube. Raised to this age and then let out. Memories and all that are programmed, as are traits and abilities," Gui says, putting the phone on the nightstand. "I was made to… get rid of some unsavory people who had wronged my creator.”

Fischer stubs out his smoke and sits back down next to Gui on the bed. "And, this man, this creator, he made you to simply do his bidding. And this is what you do, what you're trained for. Do you have any wishes of your own? You're not a robot. You're still human. Is it mind control or something?" He could feel himself getting upset, but kept calm; he didn't want to alarm the boy

"He lets me do what I want. Just that I get the task done, and I do. He might terminate me otherwise," Gui explains, rolling to his back, looking up at Allan. "Why, are you worried?"

Fischer rubs his jaw. _Who the fuck IS this asshole? Does he think he's God or something_? he wonders to himself. He brushes the back of his hand against Gui's cheek. He's too beautiful; it's making his chest ache. He clears his throat. "I'm sure you can handle yourself, darling. But this man sounds very bad. I don't suppose you'd tell me his name?"

"Hannibal Lecter," Gui says, though not just any Lecter; this one was decades old, never aging. As far as Gui knows.

"Quite a fucking name for a god who makes angels to do his dirty deeds." Fischer cracks dryly, caressing down the boy's neck, fingertips brushing the marks he left. _Why can't I stop touching him?_ "Do you live with him?" he asks.

"No. I do as I please, so long as I'm reachable if he needs me, or I need to report in," Gui offers, letting his head tilt back to expose his throat more. There are no marks on him to show signs of abuse.

Fischer exhales slowly. "How generous. Have you ever been in trouble with the law? I actually _would_ hate to see how you'd fare in jail."

"For me or for them?" Gui grins, moving a soft hand over Fischer's thigh, and raking his nails down. "Not as innocent as I look."

Fischer groans quietly. He never really went soft, and now he feels himself responding yet again to his touch. "Yeah I've noticed. You.." He pauses and hums uncertainly. He doesn't even know how to ask; the question comes out a bit forced. "You top or bottom?"

"You prefer to top," Gui says, reading Allan, "and I can do whatever you want."

"I was just asking. Curious." He grins devilishly. Fischer glides his hand over the boy’s sculpted collar bone, roaming fingertips over the beauty marks dotting the boy’s long, perfect neck. He makes his way down to the center of his chest and over firm pectorals, brushing over a nipple and rolling it between his thumb and forefinger lightly. He raises his honey-colored eyes casually.

Gui reaches up and tugs Allan down and over him, into a heated but soft kiss, and Fischer lets himself be pulled down. Fischer has to admit, he's helpless; he’s lost a measure of control under Gui's spell. He returns the kiss desperately, weaving his fingers into the boy's impossibly soft curls. Pulling away for only a second to breathe, the older man looks into those blue eyes, whispering roughly, "What are you doing to me?"

Gui is only too aware of how he was made, what he looks like, and the allure he has on people, male and female alike. "Reining you in," Gui offers, guarded with his heart, and yet he's already let Fischer see too much.

Fischer drags his teeth along the boy’s sharp jawline and whispers, "Good. One of us needs to."

Gui semi nuzzles Allan, one hand pressed up against his hairy chest, rubbing and feeling him out. "I'll be your paddle."

Fischer pulls his hair gently, kissing him deeply. "So, can I see you again?"

Gui smiles. Typically, his late night meet ups are a one time thing, because they are usually dead. Fischer is lucky. "Sure."

Fischer watches Gui longingly. He knows it's a bad idea to get attached. He tries to square up a bit, and swallows tightly. "Oh, hang on." The agent rifles through a bag by the bed and pulls out a switchblade. "Sorry about your knife. Don't want you to be without protection. You can have this."

Gui just laughs boyishly. He rolls to his stomach and takes the knife, looking it over. It's not much, but it's a gift, and the only gifts he's ever been given were from Lecter. “Afraid I may need it without you there to protect me?" he croons.

Fischer's gaze roams with unconcealed hunger over Gui's ass as he rolls over, showing it off brazenly. He knows what he's doing. The boy’s backside is irresistibly ripe, round, and peachy. Fischer's still nude, and his cock twitches against his thick thighs. He nods and rubs the edge of his jaw, eyes wandering over Gui. His brain is short circuiting at the sight. "You've been...fine. I, I suppose. M-m-m-maybe," he stutters, lost for eloquence. _Fuck it_ , he cusses at himself.

Gui watches as the other man seems to lose his train of thought. He tosses the switchblade toward his jeans, and presses up to his knees, moving over Fischer slowly, straddling his hips, hands on his shoulders.

Fisher growls deeply. Focusing on his lips as the boy straddles him, he slides large hands around his hips and onto his ass. He cups and palms him, squeezing and kneading the soft flesh. Dark hair falls into the boy's eyes as he leans over Fischer, hands cradling his jaw, and kisses him, just softly at first, working quickly into a frenzy as Gui rolls slim hips down against the other man.

 _"Fuck,"_ Fischer moans against Gui's open mouth, sucking his tongue, swirling his own inside. Panting raggedly, he drags bites over his lips and neck. Gui moans right back, and feeling their cocks harden together, pushes Fischer gently down to his back, rutting against him with his ass, rubbing the other's cock against his cleft. He bites Fischer's neck, hard enough to bleed, sucking and purpling the spot. Fischer moves one hand over the boy’s body, using long, deep, massaging strokes up his sides, abdomen and chest, until he reaches that sinful mouth. He pushes a thick finger inside, past the rosy, full lips, encouraging him to suckle. Gui sucks, wetting each finger thoroughly and lewdly. The image is obscene. Fischer adds a second finger, pushing his fingers in and out repeatedly, finally pulling them out, dripping with saliva. He replaces his fingers with his tongue, licking while grinding his hips up into the boy. Gui rolls his hips, cock pressed tight against the other man's hip bone as he teases with the tight pucker of his ass over the head. Fischer slips his wet fingers down to Gui’s hot hole, pressing lightly.

Gui pants, bearing down on Fischer's fingers, groaning as they rub around his sensitive entrance, making him start to shake with need. "Allan..."

Fischer’s cock leaks against the slender, perfect hip, as he presses a thick finger inside. Just as he does, he rocks forward to bring his teeth down on the delicate juncture of neck and shoulder. Gui's jaw drops, and he presses opened-mouthed kisses into Allan's neck, biting at his pulse.

Rutting down on the finger, Gui works his hips into frenzy, seeking friction. Fischer adds a second finger, bending his knuckle and stroking a fingertip deeper to find the boy's sensitive spot. He presses in circles, gripping him tightly; the boy is so sweetly responsive. When he feels Gui’s gorgeous fangs against his racing pulse, Fischer moans roughly and whispers, "I'm gonna fuck you. Hard. Is that what you want?"

"Yeah," the boy responds, panting wildly against Fischer's neck, and almost wants to bite his throat right out and taste his blood, but this is too good to stop. "Make me feel you days later."

Gui's teeth in his neck, nails on his skin, the way he looks simultaneously innocent, yet so debauched as he strokes him inside; it's everything Fischer wants. It makes him desire to own this boy in a overpoweringly irrational way. He slips his fingers out, grabs him by his hips, and flips him onto his stomach, pulling his legs wide apart. Fischer pulls his plush ass open and licks a long stripe up and over his hole, hot and quivering. He spits into it, before moving his tongue in harder circles, and then spears the taut muscle inside, expertly adding a finger, massaging firmly. Even though Fischer’s cock is dripping, and he’s so _fucking hard_ , he’s sure he can cut glass with his dick, he wants to make him beg for it; wants him whimpering for it.

And Gui won't beg, at least not yet, though his body is working against him, his moans pleasant little sounds in the air, muffled now by the sheets. He gets to his knees, pressing his ass back against Fischer's tongue like he can't get enough, and really he can't . "Fuck, Fischer."

Fischer groans deep, vibrating straight up into his body, reaches around with his hands, and grips his cock, thumbing pre-come over the slit. He pulls the satiny skin down, burying his tongue deeper inside. He feasts on the boy’s gorgeous ass; he could eat it for days. The older man can't get enough. He pulls his fingers out and strokes Gui's cock, reveling in the feel of the boy’s hole loosening for him.

Panting, Gui starts to rut against Fischer's fist, trying to reach behind him and carding long fingers through his dark hair, making him stay right _there_ , as his tongue set every nerve in his body on fire. His toes curl in the sheets, trying to find some leverage. God, he was glad he hadn't just gutted this one.

Fischer grunts, face flushed, relishing the feel of this angel's hands clutching and pulling at his hair. He comes up for air, spitting on his own cock, and fists it, rubbing it along the hot opening, just teasing. He’s holding back, his cockhead red and aching. He parts Gui's ass cheeks, pressing between them, and grips his hips, rocking slowly.

"There,” Gui starts to say, hands planted into the bed now to hold himself up, to leverage himself back and against Fischer, taking him all the way into the hilt, pleasure blooming through his skin in shades of red. He grips the bed sheets, looking back over his shoulder at the other man with dark, lust-blown eyes.

Fischer feels him, feels that exquisite resistance of muscle before pushing in completely. He has to hold still, buried completely now. Thumbs that are surely bruising pale skin grip tightly, and he rolls out languidly before thrusting back in. He catches the boy staring back at him, those blue eyes hooded with hunger, eyes that reach into his chest and tear his still-pounding heart from his chest. Fischer _swears to fucking God_ , he can't take it; he’s never seen _anyone_ look at him that way. He’s never felt anyone this tight, and he snaps his hips again, slow and deep. He can feel his head brushing that hard smooth spot, and tilts his hips up to make sure, _make fucking sure_ on the upstroke he hits it. He wants to take this creature apart with pleasure. Filth pours from his lips, he can't stop. "Yes, fucking yes, Tag min pik i din røv nu; For helvede, yes, fuck..."  
  
"Fuck what language is that?" Gui has to ask, because he's falling apart listening to it; it's almost like his creator speaking his language, but so much hotter. He drops to his forearms, and his hips change position just enough to take Fischer all the way down at just the right angle, making the boy writhe and moan his name whorishly.

"Danish," Fischer gasps, his mouth dropping open. He groans and jackhammers into him, pounding mercilessly, his dark hair falling against Gui's back. His muscular shoulders glistening with sweat, he presses over the lean body beneath him, one hand twisting the angel’s beautiful jaw around to capture his mouth in a deep, intense kiss as he keeps his rhythm up.

"Allan," Gui pants against his mouth, biting and licking between each breath, he reaches one hand under himself to stroke his own cock, rolling his fist around the length over the head, and every last nerve in his body feels ready to explode, ready to ignite and make him burst into flames right there.

"Gui...Gui...fuck...god. You're fucking perfect..." The sounds of slick, wet slapping echo through the room, sweat and sex thick in the air, and Fischer is driving his hips in, holding himself up on one arm. He pivots up on each thrust, grinding faster and faster, moaning louder and not letting up his pace.

Gui grips the headboard, holding himself there as Fischer fucks him with abandon, his body pliant and hot, seeking out perfect friction. He presses back trying to get all of Fischer into him, and finally the relentless tapping against his prostate has him groaning and coming in droves.

An animalistic howl rumbles out of Fischer as he feels the boy tightening around him. He grips his hips hard, fingernails digging into flesh, and shoots inside him, coming in hot bursts deep inside his ass. He spasms multiple times before finally collapsing next to him, body slick with sweat.

"Goddamnit. Gui. _Fuck_ ," he whispers, panting hard, eyes closed.

Gui moans under Fischer, sighing against the sheets in huffed breaths. "Allan," he groans, arms buckling under himself, the other man over him, sandwiching him against the bed pleasantly.

Fischer slides an arms under Gui, smoothing curls off his face tenderly. He opens one eye, kisses his forehead, and grins at him. "The devil himself disguised as a most gorgeous angel. You're too much, you know? Perfect."

Gui squeezes around Allan once more and then rolls up into him, nuzzling up into his face. "Too much of a good thing?"

Fischer can feel that he's going straight down a road he shouldn't be, but he can’t stop himself. "No. I don't think I could ever get enough of you. You'll probably be my death, but I'll die happy as fuck." He looks like a lovestruck puppy.

Gui presses up and back, sliding Allan off of him, and then turns over, wrapping long limbs around him. "Happy as fuck? You're twitterpated," he grins.

Fischer rolls his eyes, stroking his back slowly. "Mmhmm. Yes perhaps I am. A little. Maybe.”

Gui kisses that look off Allan's face, happy to play innocent for now. "Gonna keep me?"

Fischer looks down a little sadly. He knows the deal. He knows he can’t, even if the thought of letting this beauty leave crushes him. He tries to laugh it off. "I can't keep you, even if I wanted to. You're your own. But I'd love to see you again, darling. I'd be lying if I said otherwise."

Gui doesn't really understand that well. He's so young compared to the age he seems to be. "You can see me anytime."

Fischer smiles. The tugging on his heart at the sweet innocence on Gui's face makes it so hard for him to keep his walls up. "I can? I'd love to. Honestly..." He hesitates. Being vulnerable - expressing emotion - isn't his strong suit. "I don't even...never...nevermind. I'd love to." Fischer leans down, taking Gui's lower lip between his own and kissing softly.

Gui leans up to meet Allan halfway, and kisses back, taking his lead in it. This one is nice, maybe too nice. Gui hums and bites at his lip teasingly. "How long are you here for?" He's not stupid. They're in a hotel room.

Fischer hums into the kisses, melting. He strokes the boy's chin, looking into his eyes. "Ten weeks," he says quietly.

Already, Gui is making plans for ten weeks from now, devious and likely horrible ones. "Then we'll make the best of it."

Fischer is unable to tear his eyes away from Gui's. "Yes, I'd like that." He mentally scolds himself. Getting involved with a possible criminal while going through his FBI training course he's fought so hard for? _Well, you're quite the fucking genius_ , he thinks. He'll just have to deal with it. He's risked more, before, undercover. Of course, that all went to shit. _Fuck, I’m fucking smart. Oh god these lips. A saint couldn't say no_ , Fischer thinks, staring at the angel’s sublime beauty.

The jealous type, Gui is not so easily swayed away when he finds something he wants. Arms wrap around Allan, and he kisses and nuzzles the man’s face, adoring him. "We can do a lot in ten weeks."  
  
Fischer inhales deeply, wanting to commit every molecule of Gui, his scent, taste, and image to permanent memory. "Yes gorgeous, there is _so_ much. _If_ you don't kill me first. A lot we can do in ten weeks." He tips Gui’s head back, rubbing his lips along the delicate skin in a gentle caress. "Are you hungry? I can get us some food, order in. Anything you want."

Gui could live off Allan, but food does sound like a good option. "What are the choices?" he asks, quietly, laying kisses around Allan's jaw and nipping gently.

Fischer sighs blissfully. He grins and rolls to move over the boy, licking his bottom lip before invading his mouth again in a heated kiss. Finally he wrests himself off Gui. "I could just eat you all day, but let's see. I've only been here a short while. There's greasy Chinese, pizza, philly cheesesteak. A sub shop. But I'd get you anything you wanted, love." He massages the silky skin of the boy’s pectorals, looking at him worshipfully.

"I haven't had any of those," Gui answers, honest and truthful. "Which is better?"

"I like the Chinese place. Szechuan beef usually. But what do you like? What do you eat?" Fischer strokes through lush brown curls.

Gui isn’t really aware of more than what he fishes from the garbage and what’s given to him. "Whatever I find."

Fischer frowns. "Doesn't your boss, your 'creator', take care of you?" The agent is, by nature, the kind of man that sees someone vulnerable or in need, and is compelled to help. The boy’s sweet innocence is killing him, even though his gut instinct tells him some of it could be an act.

"Nah. He lets me go about on my own. I've got a place, I buy food, but I don't know how to cook or anything," Gui explains simply, as if this is exactly what normal people do. Of course, he hardly knows that. He’s only been watching them for a few months.

Fischer fights down his urge to care for him, take this young man under his wing, into his protection. If he’s honest with himself, what he really wants is to possess Gui. _God_ , he thinks to himself, _what the hell is wrong with me_. He pushes himself up out of bed, and strides to the sink, splashing water on his face. The agent paces across the room to his jacket, retrieves his phone, dials the restaurant and orders, walking back to the bathroom. Leaning on the sink and examining his face in the mirror, he feels older than his early forties.

Gui is sure he's said something wrong, though not sure what it is he’s done. He watches Fischer get up to order them food, putting the thought behind him for now. Gui busies himself on his own phone, erasing any trace that he looked up Will Graham at all, and starts to play a game of Candy Crush.

Fischer throws his phone back on the chair. He shakes off his mental funk and smiles at the boy. "They'll be here in a half hour." He sits back on the bed. His eyes flicker back over at Gui.

"People just bring food to _you_?" Gui asks, giving the man some space; he won't overcrowd him, but he does put down his phone."Do I need clothes?"

Fischer stares at him somewhat dumbstruck. "Y-yeah, they...it's delivery." He looks the boy over, considering his second question. "Darling,” he hums, “you should _never_ wear clothes with me but, I don't want _anyone_ else to see you like this. When the guy gets here, put your jeans on." The very thought of anyone else laying eyes on this living Bernini sculpture, this _Rodan age of bronze_ incarnate, sets his blood to a roiling boil. "Don't worry, it'll be ok. You'll love the food." He goes to the mini fridge and gets a beer out, handing one to Gui.

Gui loves that Fischer is already protective, and even maybe jealous, of someone else looking at him. The boy is, however, not modest. He takes the beer and cracks it open. "I've liked most things I've eaten so far." He sprawls out on the bed, all long and lithe limbs, spread eagle, without a care in the world.

Fischer sets his beer down on the table and pulls on his pants. He sees Gui lay supine over his bed and joins him, sitting up against the headboard. The older man just can't be too far away; he feels magnetically drawn to be near the boy. "Has your 'creator' made more clones? How many does he have out there?"

"He made another, but it backfired, and he was killed last year I think," Gui explains, moving closer to Fischer, one hand holds his beer, the other scratches down his chest slowly, through the thicket of hair he finds such a turn on.  
  
Fischer’s face clouds and he grinds his teeth. "Backfired? That's fucked up." His eyes darken. "I'd fucking kill them if they laid a hand on you," he says quietly, taking the boy’s hand and brushing his lips over the long fingers.

Gui shrugs his slender shoulders and nuzzles Fischer's handsome face. "He got himself killed. Lecter didn't do it."

Fischer traces the tip of his tongue along the inside of Gui’s wrist and over his pulse. "I wouldn’t like anything bad to happen to you,” he whispers in a deep voice, his eyes lowering, and then looks up at the boy intensely.

"Nothing is going to happen to me," Gui insists, and curls his fingers under Fischer's jaw fondly. "You're stuck with me for ten weeks at least."

"I'm very lucky then, for ten weeks, at least," Fischer smiles, the corners of his warm eyes crinkling up, sharp teeth flashing.

They had barely just met and Gui already wants to strap him to the bed and keep him there. _His_. "Very lucky."

"Why don't we go take a shower before the food gets here, gorgeous?" Fischer says, running his hand down Gui's belly.

People did that together? Gui smiles brightly, sets his beer down and tugs Fischer to his feet. "Okay!"

Fischer smiles broadly and takes him by the hand to the bathroom. He unzips and yanks down his pants again, kicking them away unceremoniously. He winks playfully and steps over to the shower to heat it up. Turning to Gui, he takes his hand, and pulls him under the warm spray of water and into his arms. Fischer looks into the boy’s youthful, alluring face, cupping it in both hands, and kisses him again. Continuing to lick deeply into Gui’s mouth, he moves his hand to grab a bar of soap and starts running it up and down Gui's backside, lathering and massaging suds into his body sensuously.

Gui is more than certain that Fischer just likes any reason to touch him, and he'll be glad to give him as many as he wants. Gui hums into his mouth, kissing the older man back with heated passion, sure that he could just do this all day with Fischer and be happy. Almost.

Fischer is a glutton. He wants nothing more than to absolutely _worship_ this depraved angel from head to foot. He gets on his knees and washes his toes and ankles, soaping up each limb: his muscular calves, thighs, and between his legs. He licks his lips to concentrate, and looks up to watch Gui’s face as he caresses his exquisite cock and balls. While still kneeling, he grabs the boy by the hips, and turns him around to wash his ass and the back of his legs. Fischer runs his fingers over his warm, sweet hole, knowing he might still be tender. He can't resist slapping the full, round buttocks sharply as he stands, before rubbing circles into the long lines of his back. He rubs his hands under Gui’s armpits through the lush, thick hair, over his pectorals, and down his belly. His breath is ragged, and his amber eyes are laden with lust as he wraps his hand around the boy’s cock and tugs.

“Just want to get you clean," he whispers, his voice catching a bit.

If Gui were modest he'd have been pink, but the boy thoroughly enjoys the attention, and spreads when needed, groans escaping his lips when Fischer touches him, grabs, and fondles him like that. "So you can dirty me again later?"

There is something unbearably innocent about the way he says it, and Fischer thinks it's some kind of precocious act, but it's seriously getting to him. The older man tugs a little more and comes up under his chin to kiss his neck, whispering in his ear. "Yes, min skat. So I can dirty you later."

"Right against the wall," Gui offers, a sigh of pleasure leaving his mouth as Fischer's lips meet his sensitive ear. His curls are matted to his face now with water, and he reaches for Fischer's hand to take the bar from it.

"Did you kill me in that alley, and I'm in heaven now?" Fischer jokes, moving back slightly, wiping dripping water from his face.

Gui grins, takes the soap and starts to wash down Fischer's chest slowly, through the thicket of hair on his chest. He trails down to his hips, over the ridge of grooved muscle there, and then rolls the soap along his thighs and under his balls, soaping up his cock with his free hand. He slipped the soap down further, on his knees now, and but kept on fondling Fischer. "Maybe."

Fischer goes weak and slack-jawed at the long, slender fingers on him. He leans an arm against the shower wall to steady himself and looks down, watching Gui work on him. Eyes glazing over, he grins wickedly. "There's so much I want to do to you, you know that? Absolutely filthy, horrible things."

"Tell me," Gui says, almost too innocent for his own good, his face covered in long curls as he rolls Fischer's balls in his hand and slides under him to get the other side, moving the soap to his ass, where he sinks teeth in first.

Fischer moans obscenely, cursing. He's lost, and finds himself mumbling hoarsely in a deep, rumbling voice. "I'll take you against the wall. I'll bend you over a chair, tie your hands and feet together, fuck you raw. I'll bite you, bruise you everywhere, mark you until anyone who sees you knows you're mine. I'll lay you on the bed, hang your head off the edge and fuck your mouth. Shove it down your gorgeous throat until you choke on my fat cock. And I will _feast_ on you. On your ass, on your fucking _gorgeous_ ass and suck you dry, drain every drop from you and fuck you so hard, you won’t be able to walk or sit without thinking of me. I want to crawl inside you and tear you apart, Gui. I want you..." Fischer’s legs are shaking, and he's panting.

Gui slips his tongue between the other man's cheeks and licks at his entrance as he speaks, still groping him from behind, and milking his cock into a perfect hardness. Gui wants to be ripped apart by Fischer, and to rip him up in return. He has plans for messes that would make the maid service squirm.

Fischer has both hands pressed against the tile, holding on for dear life. He turns to look behind him: A mop of messy dark curls, wet, sloppy sounds echoing off the bathroom walls, the sensation of a satiny, perfect, hot tongue working his hole in a way that’s overwhelming all his senses. Suddenly he exhales words, and surely his brain is misfiring. "You can do anything you want to me. Do you want to,” he groans helplessly, “to _fuck_ me?"

Gui likes things both ways, he'll take and he'll give, and he's wanted to fuck Allan since they shook hands. Gui presses a finger in, wet and stretching. "Yes."

Fischer gasps; he's never done this before. He's certainly sexually ‘experienced’; he's fucked men _and_ women every which way to Sunday, but he has no idea what to expect in _receiving_. Everything Gui is doing feels insanely perfect, but he's too shocked at what he's just said, too breathless, and too embarrassed to admit to Gui he's never bottomed. He relaxes around the sensation, huffing and biting his fist.

Gui can sense some tension, and bites Fischer's ass. Food was coming, and maybe this requires something of a slower hand. "Fischer," he says quietly, "Allan." He starts to jerk him off instead, still licking his entrance, he'll fuck him later.

A strangled moan rips from Fischer's throat. He's grinding into Gui's hand and soon, he’s coming in thick bursts over his knuckles, across the shower wall. Fischer struggles to catch his breath. Gui brings his hand to his mouth and licks the come off slowly, and then stands, kissing Allan's shoulder.

Fischer’s heart pounds as he stares enraptured at Gui. He’s lost in adoration, and kisses his cheek, his forehead, and his lips. Finally he grabs a towel and dries off, picking up his pants. "Food will be here soon, but I’ll take care of you, angel."

Gui takes the air dry method, and follows Allan out with a grin, flushed from the warm shower, and impossibly clean now. He watches Allan carefully, knows he's falling hard. "I know you will. Be it today or tomorrow... you will."

Soon, there’s a knock at the door. Fischer looks back at Gui with alarm, and opts to just go outside; he doesn’t want to chance the delivery guy seeing his angel’s tempting nakedness. Briskly closing the door behind him to pay the man, he grabs the food. He pushes a wad of cash in the man’s hands to get him _fucking gone_ , and comes back in, eyeing the still nude boy. He can't help but smirk. "Dinner's ready," he chuckles, and places the containers on the small table, setting everything out for them.

Gui grins and only then puts his jeans on, but leaves them undone. He sits across from Allan, eyes bright as he looks over the food. "What's what?" He takes one carton and opens it; it smells good.

Fischer looks at him in wonder. "Have you never had Chinese, love?" He slides one little cardboard container to Gui, handing him a paper plate and some chopsticks. "This is Szechuan beef; it's a little spicy. It's got bell peppers, garlic. Here’s Mu shu pork. Bamboo shoots, bean sprouts, cabbage. I also got some egg rolls. You can't go wrong with egg rolls. Some fried rice. Try a bit of everything, see what you like."

Gui shakes his head and takes some of each on to the plate, smelling everything first, and then tasting. He likes the spicy one for sure, and the egg roll was weird in his mouth, but okay. He hums around a forkful of rice, naked toes touching Allan's knees.

Fischer can't stop smiling as he watches the boy eat, feeling those sublime toes on his legs. He's so cute, and it's melting him. Fischer eats, and drinks his beer. "Good, right? Not the best, but hey. I don't exactly cook," he laughs heartily, winking.

Gui doesn't cook either; he eats canned food a lot, when he can buy his own. He licks his lip and takes another bite as he nods. "Better than cold stuff ya find in dumpsters, ya know?"

Fischer stares up at him in shock. He looks like he's been slapped in the face. "What? Dumpsters? Gui. I thought you said you ..you had money? Y-you're eating from--” he stammers, unable to finish his sentence. Fischer puts his chopsticks down, and places both hands on the table, looking at him seriously.

"Not always," Gui offers, he's seen some homeless guy do it. It seemed like an easy way for food. Sure, staying with Lecter would be easy, free lavish meals, but Gui didn't run away just to run back. "Don't look at me like that."

Fischer picks up his chopsticks. "I'm sorry, Gui. I didn't mean to insult you." He takes another bite, trying to choose his words carefully. "I'd like it if you’d...come to me, if you ever need something. I know you can take care of yourself. You're not obligated to me for anything. But maybe ask me. To make _me_ feel better." Fischer pushes his food around the plate a minute, not looking at him, then takes another bite.

For ten weeks anyway, Gui might eat, not the best, but he'd eat if he saw Allan everyday or so. He didn't want to depend on him, or anyone for that matter. He was stubborn like that. "I'm not mad. I...thought it was okay to do that. I'll find you next time it comes to that."

Fischer nods. "Good. I'll have to go work in the morning. I'll be done about five." He looks up at Gui, taking a swig of beer. "You don't have to leave. I'd love you to stay. Whatever you like. "

He smiles warmly. Well, he isn't going to mention his shitty place now. He nods and keeps eating. Staying means he gets to see Allan again tomorrow. It means sleeping all day so he's up all night watching him. "I'll stay."

Fischer finishes his food and kills the last of his beer. He's over the moon that the boy's staying the night. "You said you'd had accelerated growth. How long have you been alive? Do you have memories?" The agent wipes his mouth and leans away from the table, spreading his legs wide and resting his arms back, full from all the food.

Gui continues to eat and drink and considers Allan's question. "A few months," the boy says, muffled through food. "I got a few memories from Graham, not a lot."

Fischer’s lips part slightly in amazement. It's incredible to believe, but does explain a lot. It makes his chest ache; it's a sweet pain, one he hasn't felt in a long time. He drums his fingers on the table. "There's so much for you to see and do. You can't have…” he pauses. “A few months isn't long, love."

Gui shrugs his shoulders, a soft smile on his lips, contrasting against his very being. "I remember enough, but not enough. I keep busy."

Fischer stands up, stretching. "I don't mean working. I mean living. Seeing places in the world. Tasting food you've never had. Ice skating. Going to a rock show. Skinny dipping - among other things." Fischer saunters to the chair where Gui sits, and leans down to brush fingers along his chin affectionately.

Gui knew nothing about those things. He liked the work he did; it gives him immense pleasure to feel people’s fear, to feel their pain. Maybe he didn't really understand what Allan meant. "I.. don't know how to do those things..."

Fischer smiles. "You never know if you'll like something unless you try it. I'm always willing to try anything at least once."

"That how you figured out you liked men?" Gui asks, a grin growing on his face as he downs his beer.

Fischer laughs throatily. “Yeah, you could say that. It was unexpected. A buddy. Well, he was more than that. We’d each been going through some shit with our women. He was different.”

Fischer really doesn’t want to talk about LaCour; it feels awkward. But the boy is looking at him with those pretty eyes and rapt attention, so he continues. “We were very close. We knew each other better than our own girlfriends did. One night working, things became complicated, and it happened. I never thought about it before, with a guy, but it felt good. If something feels good, why not? I guess you could say I’m a hedonist.”

Sure, Gui asked, but a whole story was not quite what he bargained for, and that little fire of jealousy that was constantly lit in his core was stroked. "Is he in town, too? Here?"

"Nah, no. He's in Denmark. Got married, second time to the same woman. They have a baby. It was fine, no hard feelings. I don't hold any candles for him, or however you say it," Fischer laughs easily. He grabs another beer from the fridge and offers one to Gui.

Gui takes the beer, quietly contemplating. He wonders how he could get to Denmark, but also is pretty sure Allan wouldn't like it if he went off and killed his friend either. "Right."

"I am surprised you're not attached, if I can be honest, Gui. No one's claimed you." Fischer looks at him intently.

Gui's has a terrible habit of killing every person he's been involved with. Allan was different; Gui hadn't wanted that of him. "No one has understood what I am yet, enough for me to keep them."

"You should be treasured by anyone lucky enough to enjoy your presence." Fischer knows how corny it sounds as soon as it leaves his mouth, and yet it's out, and he's staring longingly at him again. He catches himself and takes a swig of beer, lighting another cigarette. "I get distracted by you," he says, glancing up quickly, and looks back down, a little embarrassed.

Gui knows how he is, he knows he can take his pick of anyone, he's made to be wanted, but not used. Allan, he knows, is sincere, he can feel it radiating off of him. "Not everyone wants me, just my time."

"Their loss," Fischer remarks. "People might not get farther than your appearance, maybe that's it. I think there's more to you, Gui. Certainly more of value. I don't give a shit about this creator or his programming. Tell me about what you love. I don't care what it is, tell me," Fischer says. He sits on the end of the bed, elbows on his knees.

Gui hesitates, only because he's not sure if Fischer will really enjoy what he has to say on the topic. It's not fishing, it's not chess, or anything like that. He pushes drying hair out of his face. "I love the way blood looks at night. The way it drops down off a hanging body, still squirming, still alive... I love the fear I elicit from people, the pain, and unknowing... The sound of skin popping under teeth." That last one he looks at Fischer specifically.

Fischer looks unblinkingly into the boy's clear, beautiful eyes, and swallows thickly. He _did_ say he was a sadist and tortured people, so this is not a surprise. What is a surprise is how Fischer reacts to hearing these words coming from that sinfully delectable mouth. His tongue feels too thick suddenly; his heart is pounding loudly in his ears. After a pause, he looks down. "I do it for a living. There's something to be said for the thrill of power you can have over someone when you hold their life in your hands. It's addictive."

"You're a cop though. It's different, yeah?" Gui slides out of his chair, blissfully full, and slithers back into Allan's lap, straddling him. "I chain people up. I let them bleed out for hours, sometimes days... I made a man eat a light bulb once..."

Fischer grins at that. _God_ . He runs big hands up his thighs and focuses on his lips. "Being a cop doesn't mean you don't do bad things, Gui. I've gotten into a lot of trouble over the fucked up shit I've done. Put people in the hospital. Almost lost my badge permanently. I _did_ lose my badge for awhile. If I wasn't so fucking good, and they weren't so fucking desperate, I wouldn't be here. People lied for me because of things I've done. And I fucking _enjoyed_ it." He grips Gui's hips a bit tighter.

Gui loves the violence, he hopes in time, he'll bring a little bit of it out in Allan. He leans in and kisses the older man’s mouth, tugging his bottom lip through his teeth slowly, eyes never leaving his. "I wish I could claw right through your chest and eat your heart."

Fischer can't even breathe at the words. One hand snakes around the slender waist, pulling him closer, and another wraps around the back of his head. Jaw slack, he willingly taking the bites, returning them feverishly. He keeps his eyes open, locked on the boy intensely. He feels like his soul is being consumed. Between kisses, he gasps, "I...think...I'd...let you..."

Of course they both know they can't; Allan would die, and Gui isn't ready for the separation just yet. It doesn't mean he wants to eat Allan's heart any less. He kisses Allan with abandon, drawing out beads of blood as teeth graze and nip at his lips, hands clawing down his chest slowly, leaving pink marks in their wake. "Someday."

Fischer's breathing gets ragged. "I love the way you draw my blood out,"  He sinks his own fangs in, hard enough to taste Gui's too, licking into his mouth. "You taste so good. Good enough to eat..."

"Have you had human flesh?" Gui asks, whispered between panted breaths, rocking his slim hips against Allan's.

"No, I haven't." Fischer presses thumbs hard into his thighs, hands on both flanks. He rubs his lips up Gui's jawline and chews at his neck, pulling his flesh harder into the bite, harder than he has before. Blood runs down the side of Gui's neck. Fischer laths his tongue up to catch the hot drops greedily.

Gui fists a handful of dark hair, tugging and holding the man to his neck like that, relishing in the feeling of teeth puncturing his skin, that gentle popping sound he can feel enough to make him groan.

Fischer rubs his lips over the tender spot, wrapping strong arms around Gui. He yanks the boy’s unruly curls hard, sucking at his neck, and grinds his hips upward.

Gui groans out in hot, thick pants. He knows Fischer is marking him, that it'll be gnarly and three different shades tomorrow, but Gui wants to wear it with pride when he goes out, have people stare and wonder who got lucky enough. "Fuck, harder..."

"You're _mine,_ " Fischer growls, sucking skin between his sharp fangs until the bruise blossoms beautifully against Gui's perfect skin. He grabs the side of his neck roughly. Pulling back and staring, he admires the teeth marks decorating the gorgeous boy's neck, chin, shoulders, and lips.

Gui is looking at Fischer with a lust-blown gaze so dark, the blue irises can hardly be seen. He's breathing hard just from that, hands snaking up Allan's neck, thumbs pressed against his pulse, feeling his bloodlust spike. He bites his neck and licks it, "Yours..."

Fischer picks him up, lifts him off the bed, and carries him to the wall, stripping him of his jeans. He turns Gui around, pressing his chest into the boy's back, nipping along his shoulders. "Put your hands up against the wall," he says in a dark voice. The sound of a zipper cuts through the air, and Fischer pushes his own jeans off, kicking them across the floor.

Thoroughly cleaned, and now ready to be dirtied all over again, Gui groans, palms flat to the wall, arching back up against Fischer, hips rolling back against his. Fischer rubs his cock, already slick, up Gui's tempting crack. He runs his hands up and down the younger man’s body, fingers splayed through his pubic hair to his cock, where he slowly strokes from base to tip.

"Fucked up against the wall. Is what you wanted? Keep your hands where I can see them. Don't take them down."

Usually, Gui is one to push limits, but he wants to see what Fischer will give him. His fingers curled and flattened again, Gui groans out, looking over his shoulder at the other man. "Yeah. Fuck me hard."

Fischer spits on his hand, slicking up his heavy cock. He uses a wet finger to slip inside Gui's hole; it's still loose and open from their fucking earlier. In one deep thrust, he enters him unceremoniously, groaning at the insatiable way boy sucks him inside. His hips shake as he drives, and rooted, he moves his hand around to press his palm flat against Gui's pelvis and hold him steady. His right hand reaches around the other side and fists Gui's cock roughly.

Gui lets out a low groan, panting against the wall with ragged, lustful sounds coming from deep within his chest. He shifts back, ass out, taking Fischer in deeper. "Fuck, Allan."

Fischer shoves Gui flush against the wall with his hips. His mouth is right up against the back of his neck, breath hot against his silky skin, one hand clawing at his ass and lower back. He slows down, teasing; every inch sliding all the way in, then all the way out, letting the muscle at Gui's entrance push at Fischer's tip, before plunging back inside to the hilt mercilessly. Gui almost reaches behind him to touch, to grope, to feel, but remembers he promised, and keeps his hands where they are. A lewd groan escape his mouth, matching the breaths and press of hips into him, a noise of pleasure sounding as his prostate is abused sweetly.

 _"Fuck, fuck..."_ Fischer pulls out and turns him around, big hands wrapping around his wrists, and he holds his arms above his head. The taller man presses his chest against him and he opens his mouth over Gui's, shoving his tongue inside roughly, his cock bobbing heavily and rutting into Gui's abdomen. He kisses hard and gasps, "I want to see your face when I fuck you. Fuck yourself on me." He picks the boy up and carries him to the chair to sit in his lap.

Gui is small enough to be moved easily and allows it. He crawls over Fischer's lap and slides his ass down over his cock, slowly, knees braced on either side of his hips. Gui starts a slow up-and-down motion, rocking his hips, sweat glistening across his smooth chest. "Look all you want..."

Fischer glides his hands over Gui's chest and belly, down to tug at his balls; he can't touch him enough. He wraps one hand tightly at the base of his cock and jacks him, devouring him with his eyes, and lets out a string of curses. "For helvede. For satan. Lort. Knep mig...Fuck....fucking hell. Goddamit, Gui. You feel so perfect...I can't get enough of you. I wanna crawl inside you."

"I'd let you," Gui whispers through a groan, and rides hard and fast, fucking himself as curls fall into his eyes, and his hands are gripping Allan's shoulders, digging white little crescents into his skin. "I'd let you forever."

Fischer's amber eyes burn into Gui's blue ones. He shifts his hips so the tip of his cock presses full against Gui's prostate on the downstroke. He wants to watch those red, full lips fall open, needs to see the rose in his cheeks deepen. Fischer fists his hands into the boy’s chestnut curls. His jaw slacks in agonizing pleasure as he fucks Gui’s impossibly hot, tight body over and over. "Du er så smuk. Du gør mig helt skør. Jeg kunne spise dig, min skat...yes, yes gorgeous..."

Gui moans so loudly, hips rolling and grinding down, mouth falling open as his head falls back against the strain of fingers through dark curls. His body is too hot all at once, and yet he doesn't want it to end either. Every pass he makes sends him over in pleasure, cock slapping gently against Allan's stomach, rubbing just right.

Gui is so open, so uninhibited, so glorious in his abandon, and Fischer is completely consumed. He wants to posses this boy the way he has possessed him. Fischer slicks his hand with Gui's pre-come and strokes him fast, grazing his teeth across the smooth chest until he latches onto a firm flat nipple, sucking hard. He sinks his teeth into succulent flesh, marking him breathlessly. Every moan and cry drives Fischer's body closer to his climax.

Gui shows no stopping; he is all or nothing.  Even now when his body peaks--writhing madly over Fischer, hips undulating wildly-- as he finally hits that sweet, sweet top, his gasps become groans of pleasure filling the air. Gui scratches down Allan's chest hard enough to bleed.

Fischer looks down at the welts covering his chest, up into Gui's mesmerizing eyes, and pumps the boy’s cock with a sweat-slicked hand. Blood trickles from the ragged claw marks; he sees fluttering eyelids framed in long lashes, and his vision goes white. He's exploding inside Gui's body, filling him with more come than he even knew he had, his orgasm thundering through him powerfully. He holds onto Gui tightly throughout, and his body shakes like a force of nature; a human earthquake.

Finally, Gui rolls to a stop, panting and groaning, resting his forehead against Fischer's, breathing against his mouth. He swallows and licks his lips, fluttering long lashes opening to vivid blue eyes. "You're never going to get rid of me..."

Fischer raises his hands to either side of Gui's face, cradling it. Between gasps for breath, he softly kisses the ravishing angel. Panting roughly he asks, "Why...on earth...would I ever...want to get rid of you...you beautiful..amazing...wicked..treasure? I want to keep you as long as...I'm alive...I can't...even...Gui...Gui..."

"Horrid, wicked Allan," Gui whispered against his lips. "How I want to keep and ruin you, fuck you all day, tear you apart and bathe in your blood." Violence is all he knows of love, whether it was poetic or real.

Gui's voice is simply music dripping into Fischer's ears, no matter the words. "Tear me apart, love. Do what you will to me. We can feast on each other night and day. You've...you've possessed me, Gui..." Fischer caresses his chin, shoulders, and neck passionately.

Gui kisses Fischer softly, little moans escaping him as he moves just so, hips digging into him deeper. "Promise?"

Fischer pulls Gui against his chest, wrapping his muscular arms around his treasure, as if he can somehow absorb him. "I promise, angel." He rises, lifting him, carries him to the bed, and lays him down. Scooting him over, he gets in, and envelopes Gui's body from behind, kissing his neck. "Rest, min skat. We'll need it for tomorrow." Already Fischer is thinking about how he can take Gui to Denmark with him.

Sleep takes over Gui faster than he'd like to admit, and he doesn't want to sleep because he knows Allan will have to work in the morning, and he'll be alone again.

* * *

 

**Danish translations:**

 

Min gud: my god

For satan: Damn

Jeg kan ikke tale nu: I can’t talk now.

Jeg ringer til dig senere: I'll call you later.

Det er forretning: It’s business.

For helvede: Hell

Tag min pik i din røv nu: Take my cock in your ass now

Min skat: my treasure

For satan: Damn  

Lort: Shit

Knep mig: Fuck me

Du er så smuk: You are so beautiful.

Du gør mig helt skør: You make me crazy.

Jeg kunne spise dig, min skat: I could eat you, my darling.


	2. Chapter 2

Fischer wakes at six in the morning. His eyes roam over the beauty next to him, fast asleep. Gui’s face is so peaceful, dark lashes against smooth pink cheeks, messy curls framing his visage, strewn all about the pillows. The boy’s arms are crossed gently over his body, a thin sheet just covering his pelvis and legs. His feet stick out at the end;  _ he must not like having his feet covered _ , Fischer thinks with amusement. He's madly in love with every cell of this beauty’s existence. Fischer wants nothing more than to ravish him, but to break the spell of his slumber seems too cruel after all they did the previous evening. 

He quietly slips out of bed and gets dressed, leaving an extra key and a note on the table, along with a little cash for food.  _ Here's some money for food and the room key. No dumpsters for my treasure. I'll be back in a few hours. Be here when I come back. _

When Gui wakes, he's disappointed and also irritated with himself for not realizing when Fischer left. He sighs heavily, and looks at the note, smiling a little bit, and takes a shower to wash his hair and try to comb it down. He dresses, pocketing the cash. He wonders if he should bother with his 'apartment' and the stuff there today, or if he should just stay. However, the brunet knows he's bound to grow bored and tv doesn't sate his moods. 

Without knowing when Fischer would be back, he decides to stick close, going down the street for coffee first before cutting the tongue out of a last minute call-in from a client. Easy enough, though he's left the man in an alley bleeding, likely, to death, and no tongue. Gui takes the tongue and puts it in an envelope, delivers it to his client, and heads back to the hotel. 

Fischer returns at five in the evening. His heart is pounding as he gets back, unsure if Gui will be waiting for him, or if he’ll have simply taken off. He unlocks the door, and when he sees his wicked angel, he stares in amazement. "Y-y-you're here," he stammers.

"Where else would I be?" Gui asks, having to get new clothes from his place before getting back here, in all black now, the others burned since he bloodied them. He gets up from the bed and takes long strides to Allan, arms around his shoulders. "Did you miss me?"

Fischer clasps his hands behind Gui's waist, pressing their bodies together. "I couldn't think about anything else all day." Fischer dips his head down, tugging Gui's lower lip into his mouth lightly. 

Gui is still high and flushed from his work; it makes him more than happy to do it, and now, having Allan to come back to, even better. He lets out a little groan. Gui tugs his arms around Allan tighter, toe to toe. "How was work?" God, that sounds so oddly domestic. 

Fischer chuckles. "More boring introductions. Paperwork. Nothing exciting yet. A lot of ' _ Where's that accent from, _ ' and ' _ Are you Dutch? _ ’" He snorts, running his hands firmly up Gui's sides. "And dare I ask what  _ you _ did?" He grins darkly at the boy. 

"Do you really want to know?" Gui asks, not sure if he should tell Fischer, considering his line of work. 

"I don't have any illusions. You told me what you do,” Fischer pauses. “It arouses me.” He is well aware of the consequences of being found in the company of a killer if Gui is ever caught, but he's intoxicated. Addicted. It's not the first time he's risked too much like this. 

Gui's pupils dilate as he gazes at Fischer, grinning. "I cut someone's tongue out for a client," he explains. 

The older man exhales heavily through his nostrils. "What did you do with it?" He stares, captivated, at the boy’s beguiling mouth. "I sent it to the client who requested it," Gui answers, leaning up to bite at Fischer's bottom lip, chomping white, sharp teeth at him. "I'm sure the man has bled out by now." 

Fischer emits a low rumble. "That's remarkably bad, Gui. Punishably so. What should we do about that?" 

Gui bites hard on Allan's lip and then down his jaw, his neck, undoing buttons of his shirt fast, biting and kissing exposed skin as the fabric fell open. Fischer hums, pulse racing, and hooks his fingers into Gui's belt loops, pulling his hips close so the boy can feel the effect he has on him. Gui tugs a nipple with his teeth, gazing up at Fischer, sucking and lathing his tongue over the nub. He gets Fischer's shirt off down his arms, tugging his hands behind him, keeping the shirt just around his wrists, trapping them there. Fischer pants and moans, hissing sharply, and his cock jerks visibly inside his trousers. 

Gui gets to his knees, nosing against the hard line of Allan's cock and bites at it, then drags his teeth down over the zipper, tugging it open. Fischer desperately wants to run his hands through Gui's curls. " _ Min gud _ ," he whispers raggedly. 

Gui pulls the button undone and pushes the other man’s pants to the ground with his underwear, nosing against his cock, breathing in the scent of him, slowly licking at his balls, running hands up his thighs and over his hips. 

Fischer sighs in bliss under the ministrations of the perfect, hot tongue exploring him. "I've been hard all day thinking of your taste, the way you feel, the way you look under me, over me." 

Gui noses against Allan's balls, and laps at the base of his cock, humming against it. "I wanted you this morning when I woke. You weren't here." Gui licks all the way up Allan's cock, sucking him into his mouth, past pink lips. 

"I...didn't want to wake you..looked so...oh fucking god..." Fischer moans, looking down at the debauched perfection of Gui's head bobbing up and down, pleasure shooting through him like nothing he's ever felt. "You're incredible..."

Gui pushes Fischer down to the bed and removes his shirt, crawling between his legs, continuing to suck and lath his tongue over him. Fischer lets his legs fall open, reaching down and running his hands through silky curls. He grabs the boy’s head roughly and pushes him down, holding him for a moment. His cock pulses perfectly against the narrow channel until he feels his angel start to choke; he releases him with a guttural growl. Gui's eyes flash dark with lust when Fischer does this, running his teeth over sensitive flesh, just begging for him to do it again. Gui claws down Allan's thighs, enough to leave pink lines. 

Fischer is addicted to Gui's teeth; he can't get enough of his biting, his nails, the savagery of his passion. He grunts and howls animalistically, shoving the boy down onto his throbbing dick. Fischer holds both sides of Gui's head, forcing him up and down repeatedly. He lets go and leans back on his elbows to watch, beads of sweat trickling down his forehead, neck and across his glistening chest hair. Gui is addicted to everything Fischer is. His taste, his smell, everything about him makes him want to eat him whole. Gui finally lets up, digging nails into the man's body as he climbs him like some feral tiger. He leans and bites right over Allan's heart, sinking teeth into skin, feeling the skin gently snap under his canines. 

Fischer chokes back a scream. It's excruciatingly painful, and it's exactly what he wants. It makes him even harder, even more insane with need, and he's desperately grasping for Gui. He sees blood on the boy's teeth and pulls him up over his body, spearing his tongue into Gui's mouth. Fischer feeds hungrily, savoring the taste. Gui is writhing over him, rutting against his cock with his ass, rolling his hips down as he shares the coppery taste of blood with Allan, tongues sliding together as he moans. He has good intentions to rip the skin right off Allan's chest with his teeth, but the other man is just too distracting. 

Fischer runs his hands down to cup Gui's ass, gripping hard and rocking up into the younger man. Both are leaking profusely and rub together, slick. Eager, wanton groans spill from Fischer. He matches Gui's intensity, and licks his neck, sloppy and wet, before his shark-like fangs penetrate sweet skin, and the delicious, intoxicating taste of Gui's blood drips onto his tongue. He laps at him ravenously, whispering, "I can't...get enough...I want to tear into you..." 

"Do it, rip my throat out with your teeth," Gui begs, as if the boy has no fear of death. Maybe he doesn't. He rolls his hips down and slides Allan's thick, wet cock into his ass, groaning as he takes him in slowly. 

The suddenness of being sucked in by Gui's silken heat seems to set Fischer's body ablaze. "Oh  _ fuck _ . My  _ god _ you're so fucking  _ tight _ ." He twists Gui's nipples between his thumb and forefinger, pinching with his fingernail. Gui looks like an absolute  _ god _ riding him like this, carved from marble, neck and chest flushed, curls bouncing, cerulean eyes dark with a feral, urgent lust that makes Fischer crave in ways he never has. 

Gui lets his head fall back on his shoulders, pain blooming through him that turns into pleasure quickly, sure that Fischer could beat him down right beautiful and he'd only ever keep coming. Gui lives for that. "Harder." He groans, heady and hot, sweating down the back of his neck already. 

Fischer is hypnotized - entranced - watching Gui's reactions to him, his cock bobbing hard and heavy, slapping against his belly as he rides. He takes the other nipple in his fingers and digs his nails in painfully, and the way the color blossoms up Gui's chest, neck and cheeks rivals the finest works of art. Caravaggio is all Fischer can think of, staring up at him in slack-jawed awe, but truly, nothing compares to this wonder. 

Gui digs his fingers into the bite wound he made on Fischer's chest, spreading around droplets of blood through thick hair before reciprocating the action, and pinches Allan's nipples hard. He moves his legs so his ankles are hooked just over Fischer's shoulders, using the leverage to grind down on the other man, keeping his cock pressed hard and tight to his prostate. "Allan," he groans, "horrid, awful. I want to come all over your face." 

Fischer pants and moans out at when Gui bears down into the bite wound, making an inhuman mewl. He grips Gui's hips hard, fucking him brutally. "Oh, Gui, Oh...For helvede. Knep. Let me taste you...please..." 

Heat spikes through his loins. The pooling liquid lava in his lower back spills over like a blast, and Gui is coming hard, working over his own cock to make it shoot, aimed at Fischer's face, most of it on his chest though. Fischer holds Gui's shaking thighs over his body as he comes. The older man opens his mouth to catch hot ropes of come on his lips and tongue, amber eyes burning up at the ravishing, depraved beauty. He leans forward to suck the sensitive tip, eager to get as much of his taste as he can; he can't resist taking Gui's cock into his mouth, sucking wetly before popping off, his lips shimmery. 

Fischer glimpses down at his chest hair, full of blood and come, and looks back up at Gui. "I think I'm in love. Come here, beautiful. " He beckons the boy closer for a kiss. 

Gui leans and kisses the taste of himself off Allan's lips as he presses down over his cock, milking an orgasm out of him with tight squeezes of his ass muscles. "Come, Allan..." 

Fischer feels it build up, the way Gui's body draws it out of him, pulling from where, he doesn't even know, and it's erupting out of him. He howls helplessly against sinful lips, and feels like he's lost his soul to him, clutching his head in both hands and kissing him hard, tongue sliding in as his hips thrust out the last tremors of orgasm. 

"Fuck," Gui groans into Allan's mouth and finally stops all together, feeling come dripping down the back of his thighs. 

Fischer's chest rises and falls rapidly, heart still pounding. He's never come apart the way he does with Gui. He pulls him close to allow the boy to lay on top of him and relax a moment. Gui could do this over and over, but Fischer makes him want to stay close, to make sure what's his stays. Come and blood squishes between their chests, and Gui bites down into Allan's mouth, hungrily. 

Fischer inhales deeply, revelling in the scent that is now distinctly  _ them _ . He thinks about Gui, about how emotionally inexperienced he is; how he doesn't want to change him, but he wants to enrich his life. There’s so much he brings out in Fischer, a side of him he's repressed. The side that longs for, and loves violence, and even pain. He's certainly enjoyed hurting those who deserved it. But watching Gui react in this setting is something wholly different. He also thinks about his career. He's wanted this FBI training for so long. He did his time at Horsens; he worked his way back. Losing everything a second time would be devastating, and yet, losing this fallen angel in his arms feels unthinkable. 

"I'll get us some dinner in a minute, just want to enjoy you a moment longer..." 

Gui doesn't know much about much; he's young, child-like his in anger and jealousy, both of which Fischer has not been subjected to just yet. All he knows is he's found someone like him, someone that wants him around, someone that his creator knows nothing about. He wants to keep it that way. "I could eat you for dinner," he teases a growl out at Allan, snapping bloody teeth at his jaw. 

Fischer grins and makes a rumbling purr at Gui. "Not if I eat you first." He looks down at the boy, holding his chin. "What would...what would your boss do if he couldn't get a hold of you? If you left?" 

Gui looks up into Fischer's eyes, honestly not sure. He's not afraid of whatever it is that would happen, be it death or otherwise. He shrugs slim shoulders. "I don't know. He might come after me, or he might not care." Not true, entirely, he has a job to finish.

Fischer strokes Gui's hair, running a thumb along his lips. "I can't leave you behind in ten weeks. I need you. Would...Would you come to Denmark with me? I know it's asking a lot, but I'll protect you. If he comes after you, I'll kill him myself. As long as you're with me, no one will lay a finger on you except me." He cups Gui's chin and kisses his lips possessively. 

"You want to keep me?" Gui asks, against Fischer's mouth, hands on his wrists, keeping him just  _ there _ . No one wants to keep him.

Fischer's heart is vibrating, thumping against his very  _ ribs _ . He's sure Gui can feel it. The way the boy holds his wrists down, he doesn't want to move. He wants to be this fallen angel’s captive, possess him, be possessed, and never leave this room. He feels he could exists in a universe of only them. His eyes turn blood red, and he pierces Gui with his gaze. "There’s nothing I want more."

To be wanted was something else entirely, as he's only been treated like a possession to be used, never loved or wanted. Gui smiles against Fischer's mouth and rolls over on him, pinning him to the bed as he leans over him with floppy curls encircling his youthful face. "Okay."

Fischer smiles at him, holding his face, and continues to gaze into his eyes. It's hard for him to express his emotions, but he hopes the younger man can feel what he’s feeling. "Yes? Then I am the happiest, luckiest man and you...well, you are stuck with me." He laughs and kisses Gui's neck, shoulders, lips, everything he can reach while pinned down. 

Gui plans to claim Allan in many ways as his own now, many torturous and binding ways. He rubs his palm into the bite over Allan's heart; he'll start here. "I'm never stuck if I don't want to be," he grins, hoping Allan won't grow bored of him. 

Fischer looks down at his chest smiling. It hurts, but in such an exquisite way. As if he could  _ ever _ stop thinking of his beauty, whenever they’re apart, now he'll think of him when he sees the scar, feeling it sting as it heals. "I don't doubt it, and, " Fischer says quietly, whispering in his ear and nipping at his earlobe, "We can find ways to satisfy your urges, I think." 

"Oh?" Gui raises a brow, and feels himself want to melt into the man under him and stay there. "Tell me." Gui has yet to show Allan his violence, his anger, and so far, hasn't wanted to. 

Fischer keeps teasing him with soft little bites. "You can torture me. You seem to enjoy it, as do I. And, if you like, I can do the same to you. There are many ways we can try. We've already done a little damage," He grins down at the boy’s chest, drifting fingertips over the marks he's made over Gui's neck and shoulders. 

Gui would gladly take out bigger chunks from his lover, but knew better than to try; they were human after all. It didn't mean he wouldn't get as close as he could. Gui lets his head roll back on his neck, exposing his throat as Fischer touches the beautifully sore, bruising marks he'll wear with pride. "I like these ideas, Allan," he coos, and bends to lick the mark over his heart slowly. 

Fischer runs his tongue over the lovely bruises carefully. "You're exquisite. I'll get cleaned up and get you dinner. Would you like to go somewhere, or eat in again?" He presses Gui's hand into the wound. 

Gui looks at him a second, not sure what he means. "Go out? You mean go get it?" he asks, not really sure of the concept. 

Fischer smiles wide, eyes crinkling up at the corners. "Take you to a restaurant, for dinner, gorgeous. They serve you food. You sit down, they give you a menu. They make it and bring it out to you at a table. Other people are there eating too. It's nice, quiet. Has no one ever taken you to dinner?" 

Gui shakes his head with a big smile. "No. I've taken food from those places, but I didn't know that was something people did... together," Gui says, innocently, and almost giddy, he rolls off Allan, excited that anyone would want to be seen with him, let alone take him out. 

"Let's clean up and get dressed then, love. It's a sin to put clothes on you but, I don't want anyone else to see this. They'll steal you from me," he teases, and grabs Gui around the waist to kiss the back of his neck. 

The boy leans back into Fischer as he grabs, reaching behind him to tug some of his hair. "They would have to fight us both." 

"They'd be terribly sorry." Fischer knows there's some risk taking him out, but he can't resist. He wants to spoil the boy, give him new experiences. It's been so long since he's actually wanted to take anyone anywhere like this. He leads Gui into the bathroom, pulling him into the shower for a quick rinse. "No shenanigans, just a quick clean up," he says with a grin, admiring the wet boy as he splashes him. 

Gui would make shenanigans anytime, but for now he listens, and helps Allan clean the blood and come off his chest with soap. "Yes, sir," he whispers with big blue eyes that seem to get wider and bigger the longer he stares at Fischer. 

Fischer groans to himself when he hears ' _ Yes Sir _ ', and thinks  _ What fresh hell of precious delightful torment is THIS _ . Biting his lip, he turns him around so he won't have to look in those eyes, but is then faced with the world's most perfect, apple-round ass.  _ This is hopeless. _  He grunts in frustration and squeezes his eyes shut, running soapy hands over Gui's body and struggling not to get aroused again. "You are trouble, angel. Impossible to resist. But I need to get you cleaned and dressed, somehow..."

Smirking over his shoulder at Allan, Gui's eyes light up. He likes to be trouble; nothing was fun if he weren't. "Gonna keep me in line, spank me when I've misbehaved too much?" The thought sends jolts to his own loins, but Gui doesn't push for more touching just yet.

Fischer removes the shower head and runs the water over Gui. The thought of really bending him over and spanking him, hard and proper, makes him groan a little. Fischer pulls his dick down with a hard tug in an effort to calm it. "Yes, I'll make sure you obey, and if you don't? I'll make sure you can't sit for a week," He says sternly, trying not to grin. 

Gui looks behind him to watch Fischer, and loves that he's made him wanting already. "Take me right over your knee?" He's going to be extra bad just to push Fischer.

The older man rinses himself, desperately trying to finish the shower, and whispering a little curse under his breath. He keeps talking, trying and failing to avoid Gui's magnetic gaze. "I will. I'll take you over my knee, and make you so sorry. Now, hand me a towel." 

The boy reaches for the towel, hands it to Fischer and gets out himself, without one. His only reply is a smirk over his shoulder as he drips across the hotel room to his clothes. Fischer dries himself and watches him walk away. He strokes himself twice, staring at his ass, and then tears his eyes away, sauntering over to his clothes hanging in the small closet. He chooses a dark blue button down shirt and black dress slacks, pulling them on. No underwear; he might regret that later, but right now he doesn't care. He continues watching Gui as he buttons his shirt up, licking his lips. 

Gui pulls on his jeans over wet skin and then his dark t shirt, that now sticks to his lithe and small form. He runs a hand through his damp hair, but the curls just don't want to stay down. "Take a picture, it'll last longer." 

Fischer blushes and he looks down and back up quickly, eyes flashing. "Getting smart with me?" He knows what Gui is doing and  _ dear god they just need to get out of there _ , and go eat before he tears off his clothes again. 

Gui's lips quirked into a shit-eating grin as he smooths back his hair once more and grabs his switchblade from Allan and a handful of other weird things from the dresser he put them on. "I'm ready." 

Fischer quirks his eyebrows and smirks at the switchblade. He walks to the mirror to comb his hair, watching Gui with a sultry stare. The agent grabs his keys and wallet, leather jacket, and opens the door. "My car is right here in front," he says, gesturing to a silver Nissan Altima. 

"Fancy," Gui says, though it’s hard to tell if he means it as he skips down the steps to the car and leans against it, waiting for Fischer to unlock it. "They gave you a car for ten weeks here?"

"It's just a rental. You should see the piece of shit they gave me back home. Fucking thing kept breaking down at crime scenes. Our bus driver had to 'rescue' me once. This may as well be a Maserati." Fischer chuckles, closing the door. He climbs in the other side, starting the car. "Push button start. I can't get over that." He grins at Gui and starts driving. 

"Is that safe?" Gui asks, buckling himself in. Despite how much he hates it, he knows Fischer will say something. "Push button? Someone could steal it." 

Fischer fastens his own seat belt and nods. "Yeah, it's completely secure. The keys have to be in the car to work. The car won't start without them; it can't be hotwired. Everything's computerized now." Even as he says it, he knows Gui could easily just gut him and steal the car, but it's not even his and somehow - Fischer looks over at him - he doesn't care. 

Gui is meticulous when it comes to theft, as he's good at it if he has to be. Good to know; steal keys before the car, if it's like this. Easy enough. "Would you teach me to drive?" There was that issue though. 

Fischer grins. "Yeah I'll teach you, darling. So, do you like fish?" 

Gui's grinning like an idiot, watching the road signs and everything else around him. He has a license, but he's never learned officially how to drive and hasn't bothered to. "Yeah. Fish is good." 

Fischer pulls up to a sushi restaurant. It's far enough away that he doesn't think he'll run into any trainees or cops, but he read up on it earlier, and it sounded good. He puts the car in park and leans over to unbuckle Gui's seat belt, touching him deliberately. He hops out and opens the car door for him.

Gui gives him a look when Fischer does that, and simply piles out of the car in a graceful manner, walking side by side with Fischer to the restaurant. "Sushi?" He makes a face as he says the word, not sure what that is. 

Fischer grins and grabs his hand, leading him inside. Gui smiles as his hand is taken. "Raw fish. It melts in your mouth. It's buttery and decadent. Trust me, you'll like it. And if you don't, I'll take you somewhere else. Just try it. You should at least try it  _ once _ ." He gestures to the hostess once inside, requesting seating for two, and they are lead to a private booth. A waitress greets them. 

Once seated, Gui looks over at Fischer and then the menu. Fischer talks to her and, knowing Gui won't be familiar with the food, he orders a few things for them to share. Raising his brow once the lady leaves, Gui asks, "It's all raw fish?" He's not disgusted, just curious. 

"Yes, expertly prepared, only the best cuts. It's safe to eat, if you're concerned. It's a delicacy. I chose mild types of fish for you to try to start. The salmon is nice and smooth. But don't worry, just see if you like it." Fischer smiles warmly and pours some green tea. "We'll also be getting some miso soup. It's great." The lady brings their soup, and Fischer nods. "That's just green onions, tofu and miso. Made from soybeans and soymilk." 

Gui stares at the food in awe, not even sure what he was eating aside from the onions. He sniffs it first and then takes a slurp off the spoon with it. Salty and not bad. The spongy little things weren't terrible either. Soon the lady brings out a colorful platter of sushi: bright pink salmon on tiny beds of rice, some thinner slices of salmon and scallops alone, rolls with avocado and cucumber, eel, sea urchin, and a bright green dollop of wasabi. 

Fisher selects a few pieces and pours some soy sauce into a small dish for each of them. "You can use your fingers to pick them up. Dip them in the soy sauce, add some of the green stuff if you like heat and spiciness. Just take a little bite of everything, see what you like." Fischer digs in. 

Gui watches Fischer first, and then tries the green stuff on its own, making a face. Then he tries the soy with a piece of sushi, which he dunks into the brown liquid, and shoves the whole thing in his mouth unceremoniously. He chews a few times and swallows, with a hum. He does it again, starved. 

Fischer can't repress his smile as he watches Gui. It's like watching a child try exotic food for the first time; it's adorable. He signals to the waitress and asks her for a few more selections, the ones Gui seems to be inhaling quickest, then tells the boy, "It's all you can eat', so don't be shy. Pretty good, eh?" Fischer pops a piece of sashimi in his mouth and sticks it out at Gui like a tongue with a silly wink. 

Gui might look small, but when he ate, he ate a lot. He took a few more, trying not to laugh at Allan when he did that. Fischer finishes his food, and orders something else. "Mochi." He turns to Gui, grinning like a little kid. The woman brings out a rectangular plate with 6 tiny balls of ice cold mochi. "Pomegranate & mango. It's cold and sweet, like ice cream," Fischer says, looking at Gui with glee. He takes a spoonful and eats some himself. 

Gui watches Fischer and then does the same, and it’s surprisingly sweet, but not overly so. It's perfect. He takes a few more bites, allowing himself this treat. "It's good."

"I'm so glad you like it. It's such a pleasure watching you enjoy yourself," Fischer says. He takes another bite, licking the dessert from his lips. He reaches his hand under the table and rubs Gui's knee. 

Gui watches the way Allan licks his spoon, and moves his knee a little closer, glad to still be within touching distance. "I've never had anything like this." He licks his lips, full now. 

Fischer has a terrible urge to eat the mochi from Gui's mouth, but just runs a large hand up his thigh and squeezes. Watching the boy eat dessert is making his head vibrate with lust. "Very satisfying. As delicious as the company."

Gui would eat anything that Allan gives him, and share it in return. Hell, messy, food sex sounded good right now. He thought briefly about leaning over the table and and smashing the treat between their mouths and making a huge fucking mess. But, Fischer seemed to want to avoid too much attention. Gui would be wary of his job. He smiles mischievously; they have a drive back still. 

Seeming to read the boy’s mind, and observing the lascivious way he licks his lips, Fischer flags down the server. "Miss, may we have the check?" Aside to Gui, in a low voice, with a dark smile, he whispers, "You are testing my limits with your charms, darling." He looks around the restaurant at the other patrons and exhales carefully.

"If all these people weren't here, I'd fuck you right on this table."  Fischer says, smiling wickedly. 

Gui runs his foot up Allan's ankle slowly. "You should," he whispers back, wanting to break every mold of Allan's, rip him apart and take him anew.

"I'd love to lick sake out of your navel." Fischer whispers before quickly paying the check and grabbing Gui's hand. "Come on. I need to get you into the car  _ now _ ," he says a little gruffly.    
Gui gives him a playful look as Fischer all but drags him from the building, the boy giddy with rosy cheeks. "Yes, sir..." 

Fischer unlocks the car, looking around. He opens the back seat, and without saying a word, shoves Gui in. It's sunset, and they’re in a quiet back corner of the car park. Still risky, but Fischer is once again at his breaking point. He climbs in after the smaller man, locking the doors. He pushes Gui back roughly, climbing on top of him; his expression looks as though he's going to devour him. Pressing him flat against the seat, he grips the boy's chin, forcing his mouth open, licking hot and wet inside. His angel still tastes of sweet mochi. Gui squirms for the sake of squirming, booted feet and long legs wrapping around Fischer's waist as he licks the inside of his mouth, hot and hard already for the man over him. There were no words needed where actions spoke clearly. Gui gripped between them and unzipped Allan's pants, palming him. 

"You teased me. You were terribly wicked, you know that?" Fischer whispers, biting Gui's bottom lip hard, hands already pushing up under his shirt, pulling open the buttons to expose his chest, reaching under the waistband of his jeans, trying to touch everything at once. Gui squirms and writhes, getting Fischer out of his pants quickly, pumping his hands over him as teeth and tongue drag against ample lips and down his jaw, biting. Fischer moans at the feel of long slender fingers wrapped around him. He yanks Gui's curls back to access his neck, and snaps his teeth teasingly at him, sucking lightly, just enough to madden him. "When I get you back to the hotel, I'm going to bend you over and make your ass as red as an apple."

"Tease, tease," Gui groans into the air, hooking fingers around his cock and tugging on it, wantonly rutting his hips against his hand for friction. 

Fischer slips his hand into Gui's pocket and pulls out the switchblade, flicking it open and pressing it against his lips before kissing over the top of it, cutting both of their lips. "Teasing, am I?" he growls between kisses, feeding from Gui's mouth hungrily and relishing the taste. 

A groan escapes the boy's mouth as he laps and sucks the blood between their lips, his blue eyes dark with lust as he tugs hard on Fischer's cock. He wraps his tongue around the blade, carefully, savoring every growl he can get out of the other man. "Horrid." 

Fischer is panting at the way Gui manipulates his turgid flesh. He slips the knife down and nicks the delicate skin near Gui's nipple before moving his mouth down to lave at it like a starving man. He bites, tugging at the nub, dragging his teeth over the fresh cut. He jerks his hips rapidly into Gui's hand. 

Gui groans; the pain is as blissful as watching Allan do the things Gui can't get anyone else to do. "Allan " he groans, fisting and tugging hard on his cock. 

Fischer sits up a little, straddling Gui as he strokes him, rubbing crimson in beautiful patterns over his skin and licking it from his lips. He gasps, and runs the blade down to Gui's belly, making a shallow cut across; it’s a harmless surface wound, but it leaves a gorgeous ribbon of red rivulets that stream across the taut belly. Fischer is hypnotized watching Gui react to his attentions. "You...you are so beautiful...Gui..Gui..." He's gasping, and so close to his climax. 

Gui might come from the pain and pleasure alone, he loves it all just the same. He works Allan over, sure he wants to lick every last bit of come from his hand when he does. "Come on, Allan."

Fischer quakes in Gui's hand, groans, and shoots hot streams of white over Gui's belly. "For helvede..angel..." He leans over the beauty, eyes dark, rubbing his come and the boy’s blood down to Gui's cock and using it to stroke him slick and wet. The older man bites his swollen lips raw and whispers, "You take me apart, Gui, do you know that? You're wicked, and gorgeous, and I can't get enough of you." 

Gui's eyes roll back into his head when Fischer strokes him, he doesn't need it, but the feeling is ecstasy as he starts to feel himself build toward it, Fischer's words pulling him right to the edge. He comes in pulsing hot waves, mixing come and blood and more come together, and pulls Fischer into a heated, sloppy kiss.

Fischer explores his mouth greedily, bringing his own hand between their lips and eagerly cleaning with a rough tongue. "I want to taste every bit of you I can," he whispers between licks. 

"Cut me open and eat my insides," Gui offers, his blue eyes sparkling in the low-lit sun setting behind them. Gui is sure if he ever felt love, this might be it, but he can't be sure. 

Fischer smiles at this beauty beneath him and swoons. "We'll get as close as we can, but keep you alive. Both of us." He winks and kisses him, lifting himself up. “Let me get you back to the hotel and we'll clean up and get dirty again. Tomorrow I'll start teaching you to drive, how about that?"

"You don't work?" Gui asks, brows high in his hairline, excited to learn something he thinks he can do but has never done. Fischer nods.

"Yeah I'm off tomorrow. There's an old abandoned naval yard not far from here. We can practice there. You want to?" He grins at Gui.

Gui nods excitedly, kisses into Fischer's throat and bites gently. "Still spanking me first?" 

Fischer closes his eyes, and a deep rumble vibrates in his throat at the contact of Gui's teeth. "Yes. You are  _ definitely _ going to get it, young man." He zips up his pants and lets them out to get in the front seat. The older man buckles up and starts for the hotel, glancing at Gui now and then with a smile. Gui never lets his gaze leave Allan's; his eyes are always on him, the way he moves when he drives, it looks effortless. He leans and squeezes his thigh. Once back at the hotel, Gui gets out and waits by the door, rocking heel to toe in his boots. 

Fischer unlocks the door for them and motions his hand inside. "After you, beautiful." He sheds his jacket, and guides Gui by his hips towards the bathroom. The older man leans the boy up against the sink, grabs a washcloth, dampens it with warm water, a little soap, and starts cleaning the cuts he made on Gui. Each time he reaches behind him to rinse the cloth, he kisses him deeply. He cleans every cut, touching him sweetly, and looking at him like he is the most beautiful thing he's ever seen. "We just clean these every time we do this to make sure they heal properly and don't get infected. You're..min skat. My treasure." 

Gui allows it, to be taken care of and treated like this, mostly because he doesn't know what that feels like, and it's growing on him. He cants his head to the side, giving Allan room to clean it. "Treasure?"

Fischer looks down into his eyes. "Someone that is the most special person in the world to me. I take care of you. Protect you. What we do to each other is for pleasure. I would never hurt you for any other reason."

Gui only knows pleasure in pain and fear, he's yet to find anything that makes him truly hurt. At least, not yet. Gui smiles up at Allan, fingers sliding against his hip bones. "Tell me the things you want me to do to you." 

Gui takes his breath away with such a request.  _ The possibilities. _ He hums with a small smile. "Tie me down. Restrain me. Your teeth on me, the way you bite, the way you claw, I can't get enough. Maybe," He runs the soapy washcloth down to Gui's belly, rubbing across gently, amber eyes roaming down his body. "Gui. I'd really like you..." Fischer pauses, murmuring huskily. "I want you inside. I want you to fuck me," The very idea lights up Gui's already very blue eyes. 

"I'll tie you down and fuck you?" Gui asks, nimble fingers playing across carved hipbones, tugging Allan closer.

"Yes...I demand that you do..." Fischer pulls him in so he can kiss behind Gui's ear, lifting his chin and nipping across his cheek and jawline.

Gui presses fingers into Allan's ass and draws him closer, breathing out slowly. "I'll have to find some good rope." 

Fischer flexes his biceps and grins. "I'm pretty strong. You'll need to make sure it's tight. If I get loose, I'll grab you and spank you raw because you didn't tie me down hard enough, and then what?" He looms over Gui, his thick, corded muscles and wiry chest hair in such contrast to Gui's smooth, lean frame. 

"I guess we start over and I try again," Gui says, hands on Allan's biceps, feeling out the curve of muscle there, guessing by that just how much rope he'd need, and the type of knots. "But don't get mad if you have rope burns to explain later."

"Anyone who sees them will just know you own me...and I like that." Fischer's hand slides behind Gui and cups his ass, squeezing. He gives a hard  _ smack _ high on the top of his rump. He rubs over the spot firmly, sliding his tongue inside Gui's mouth. 

Gui groans. He likes that Fischer is not afraid of people knowing, as Gui is unafraid of it. "Good," he whispers, kissing Fischer harder as he guides him back to the bedroom. Fischer grins against Gui's lips, letting him lead the way back. 

"Got any ropes at your place, love? Where do you usually do your work? Or do you improvise?" 

Gui has a whole set up at this dingy little apartment, if one could call it that. "Ropes, chains, cuffs," He kisses Fischer after each word, and presses him into the wall. "I've got anything you'd want." 

"We should go there. Tell me, if you had a mark like me, had to get me to tell you something, how would you make me talk?" Fischer's eyes blaze wickedly, looking down at Gui.

"Depends on your fears," Gui says, breathing hot against Fischer's neck. "Takes time some

times to find that fear in people like you, Allan. Physical fears don't exist. Yours are all in your head." 

Fischer swallows, his Adam's apple bobbing down his neck slowly. "I guess you'll have to test and see what I’m afraid of then." 

"We can go to my place, but you... can't..." Gui doesn't know the words he's looking for, but he knows Fischer won't like where he lives. He pulls a shirt on. 

Fischer puts on his jacket, looking over at Gui. He sighs a little. "Give you a hard time about it? I won't. I want you to be safe, but I won't belittle where you're living, angel.” Gui makes sure he has his keys and nods, wary. "It's not safe," he warns Fischer, just so he knows ahead of time and isn’t surprised. "We'll have to park downtown, or we can walk." 

"We can walk." Fischer takes off his jacket after looking at Gui for a minute. He goes to sit on the edge of the bed, and leans down to rummage through his bag. Out comes his gun holster and Glock 22. He pulls it on, checks his weapon, snaps it in place, and puts his jacket back on. "Well, if it's that dangerous. I don't intend to use it but, perhaps in case." 

Gui's eyes darken with lust as he watches Fischer dress like that, and it makes him hold his breath a moment just to calm his racing pulse. He slides his teeth over his bottom lip. "I'll protect you, but if it makes you feel better..."

Fischer adjusts the holster a bit on his shoulders under the leather. The way Gui's looking at him makes his blood hot. He pushes a hand through his hair, and picks up the room key and his smokes. "Anyone who runs into the pair of us would be one sorry son of a bitch though, huh?" he laughs. 

Gui smiles widely at Fischer and walks out, slipping on his own jacket; it's longer, a trench, and the sun was setting already. He can go home, at least, and get his good knife. He leads the way, the walk isn't far, a few blocks up and across the street. 

" _ Very _ sorry." Fischer follows him. He’s in total ‘cop’ mode now, sharp, alert, and keenly aware of their surroundings, noting everyone they pass. It's rough looking, but he's seen worse. After Horsens, he doesn't have much to be afraid of anymore. Long legs easily keep pace with the younger man. Gui walks like a man who doesn't fear his surroundings. He'd been held up down here before, but the other was the one to regret it. 

Gui does love playing victim to the last minute, too. The fear is the best then, it's never expected. They walk a little further, until Gui pulls Allan down a long alley way, and slips in through a mostly hidden door. The passage is small, and even Gui has to go sideways a bit to get through. They walk up some stairs, and finally he unlocks another door and pushes it open. The inside is not great. A few small windows, too high to matter. It's mostly a flat; a very small kitchen unit that leads into the living room which is strung with chains. There's blood splatters on the floor, left there and dried. There's a room, the door closed, Gui's bedroom. Overall, it's dark, dingy, and likely infested with god knows what. 

Fischer looks around. He's not surprised at where the boy lives, but he’s enraged at this "Lecter” person. How could he create this beautiful young man, only to leave him to fend for himself in squalor? It's beyond cruel, and it angers Fischer, but he shoves the feeling down. There’s nothing to be done yet, and he doesn't want to offend his love. He'll likely need to take care of the situation before he takes Gui out of the country, but he'll cross that bridge when he comes to it. "Anyone home?" he quips.

"Should there be?" Gui asks, taking off his jacket hanging it over a hook in the wall, definitely not a coat rack from the looks of the dried blood. Gui goes to Allan and helps him out of his jacket, kicking a stray tooth on the floor to the corner, no shits given. Fischer shrugs off his shoulder holster and gun, setting it down with his jacket, and his eyes wander pointedly to the hook and then the tooth. His eyes are dark. "There better not be." 

"Those who see the inside of my place never see the outside again, alive," Gui says, "Or they're blindfolded." He puts Allan's things with his own. "Ropes or chains, Fischer?" 

Fischer's heart races. He licks his lips, shifting his stance slightly. "Ropes, to start."

"To start," Gui said. Sliding in behind Fischer, he starts to undo his shirt and then his pants, stripping them away slowly and tossing them aside, leaving his man bare naked. He doesn't want to ruin his only clothes to get home in. Gui finds the rope; it's not silk, or anything nice, it's harsh and corded. He is silent through the whole thing. Tying one wrist and then the other, then together, he hooks Fischer's hands above him to the ceiling.  Next, using the same rope, he binds the man’s left and right ankle, sliding the twine up his back to connect with his wrists, leaving Fischer spread and vulnerable.

Fischer's breathing grows labored as Gui strings him up and binds him. He's never experienced anything like this before. Watching him work, the younger man is so confident, beautiful and cold, it makes Fischer's heart pound in his ears. He stares at the boy, not daring to say a word. The floor below is filled with an array of knives and other weapons. Gui has used cruder, but his heart swells for Fischer, so he'll use his nicest set. 

"Usually, I start by breaking bones, a foot, a knee cap, an arm, anything to make them squirm," Gui explains as he picks up a small scalpel to start, walking around Fischer as he takes in every last bit of him, stopping in front of him. 

A bead of sweat runs down Fischer's temple. He asked for this. He's starting to feel fear; it’s making him incredibly aroused. His lips are tight, and he levels a hard look at the boy. "And so you're going to start like this with me?" he asks, his voice low and rough.

"I won't break you; you need your hands and legs for what you do," Gui explains, running the scalpel up Fischer's belly slowly, and then down again harder, drawing a line of blood with it; not too deep. 

Fischer's mouth has gone dry, and he bites the inside of his cheek when the blade nicks him. It's a shallow cut, but it’s enough to send a shiver up his spine. Thoughts whirl through his mind. He feels vulnerable, not knowing what's going to happen, but he tries not to betray his terror. 

Gui knows next to nothing about Fischer, and yet he knows most of what there is know about Gui. Hardly fair, and since they're here..."Who is back home waiting for you?" he asks, trailing the blade over Fischer's hips as he walks around him, tiny beads of blood building in it’s wake, but not enough to leave him scarred. 

Fischer's eyes widen at Gui.  _ Can he read minds? _ How could he just  _ know _ his racing thoughts when he had not elucidated them? It sets in that he doesn't  _ really _ know Gui; just because he's been fucking him for the past 36 hours or so doesn't mean anything. This kid could, and probably will, simply gut him, steal the car, and not give a flying fuck. He’s been a fool, falling for the beauty; it’s always been his weakness: his own damned lust. 

"Your home," Gui says, his eyes narrowed into Fischer's skull as he walks back around him. He sense things, nothing more, and this is growing dangerously serious as Fischer evades. Gui wants him wholly to himself. 

Fischer speaks honestly. "I was married, but she left me and is remarried. I don't have anyone there. I live alone, Gui. M-m-my job has been it for me. I've had fucks here and there, yes, but no one serious. Nothing more. No one I care about or would see again. The last girl I had after the ex dumped me as well. There’s no one. I'm...I..." He stops talking, realizing he's blabbering and is actually scared, and showing it now.

"Do you worry about her? Your ex-wife?" Gui asks, sliding the scalpel right against his ribs, where he'd only damage muscle, get it right through the bones. It's small enough, if he pushes it in. 

Fischer gasps, feeling the blade so close. He knows he  _ could _ die tonight. "No. I..I don't hate her but I don't really give a shit either." 

Gui slides the blade down and not in, and then stands in front of Fischer, watching sweat roll down his chest and neck. "I don't like sharing. If you're mine, you're mine. I'll carve my name right into your heart." 

Fischer is sweating. It’s trickling into his chest hair. He licks his lips and looks down at Gui. His fear and arousal are intersecting vividly in the young man’s endless blue eyes, capable of such cruelty and pleasure, like he's never felt in his life. "I only want to belong to you."

Gui gets off on this, he loves this, the fear, he can feel it and it makes him want to eat Allan's heart raw. "You should. Or you'd be dead. Now, anything else you want to tell me before I carve my name on you?" 

Fischer looks at him and just says, before inhaling deeply "Jeg elsker dig, Guillaume." 

He doesn't know what Fischer said, but at the same time he does, and Gui is struck dumb with the thought. He leans up on his toes and pressed a soft kiss to Allan's mouth, and digs the scalpel in hard enough to draw blood, to scar when he's done. He drags the blade, carving his initials into Allan's skin, over his heart, dragged through the bite. "Promise?" 

Fischer fights back a howl of agony. It sets his body on fire; his skin is electrified, and he can't comprehend how or why. There are not enough synapses to manage an explanation. With eyes squeezed shut, he cries out, "Yes, yes I promise, my treasure!"

"Look at me, Allan," Gui demands, his blue eyes intense as he finishes the last G and drops the scalpel. "Tell me." Gui looks like a scared child, afraid he will lose the very things he's gained by showing a sliver of his monster, afraid that he'll let Allan down and he'll leave. 

Fischer eyes fly open immediately. He steadies his breath, sharp cheekbones ruddy with the effort. He meets Gui's gaze openly. "I promise you, Gui. I love you and I won't leave you. I-I love you." Fischer's heart feels like it's breaking in his chest, just cracking open and bleeding in agony, and it has nothing to do with the gashes Gui has inflicted. Even as the words leave his lips, he's making himself vulnerable in a way that terrifies him, and yet he feels so utterly helpless. His emotions are intense and overwhelming as he looks into the angel’s hypnotic eyes and realizes he means the words - powerfully. To lose him would feel worse than death. If Gui leaves him, grows bored, betrays him, is somehow torn from him; this is his greatest fear. If that were to happen, Fischer would go mad. 

If Fischer doesn't mean it, Gui would kill him. He's already shown him so much of himself. The boy gets his hunting knife and cuts the back piece of rope and then the top one, letting Allan down but not untying him yet. "I need you." 

Fischer’s feet touch the ground. He's unsteady, but stays up. "I can't live without you. I crave you. I-I-I need you too." Gui keeps his surprisingly strong arms around the man, and kisses him deeply, sliding in under his tied wrists, under his arms. 

Fischer submissively parts his lips to Gui in simmering urgency, his heart thundering in his chest. Fear and desperation break people, and Gui hopes, a little glimmer of it in the back of his mind, that Allan won't resent him for this. 

"Should I let you free?" Gui whispers against his mouth. 

Fischer keeps his eyes open, even as Gui explores his mouth. "Please, don't. Don't, Gui. I'm your captive, my beloved, cunning boy." 

Gui runs his fingers through the carved letters of Fischer's chest, blood spreading across his shoulder where he plants his hand. This is only a sample of the horrible things he can do, but Gui doesn't want his Allan to run off. He kisses Allan again hard, and then drops to his knees licking the line of blood around his hips and then sucks Allan's cock into his mouth. 

Fischer inhales sharply, and the sudden sensation of soft, wet lips on his sensitive flesh sends blood rushing to fill him. He can feel himself swelling inside the hot, silky cavern. The stinging pain in his chest mingles with the incomparable pleasure, and he whimpers Gui’s name out like a prayer. "Gui...Gui...Gui..." 

Gui’s mouth moves from hardening flesh to Fischer's balls, lapping at them as he noses against his groin. Reaching up and behind Fischer, he spreads his ass as he tongues his taint with sharp curls of the wet muscle. Fischer is spread wide open, and can't move much, but strains against the rope desperately to get *more*. His knees weaken and the fibers cut into his wrists, red welts starting to form, but it doesn't even register with him. He's immersed in the sensations washing over him from Gui, playing his body like a skilled musician. 

"Still," Gui commands, and moves under and behind Fischer, spreading him wider, licking up his taint to his pucker, lathing wetness against his entrance as he works his cock over with one fist. 

Fischer struggles to obey, and instead moans out; loud, obscene groans, deep, low animal sounds. The older man is aching from the way Gui is teasing him. "Please," he begs. 

"Please, what?" Gui asks from behind, and gets up, going to find something to make this easier for Fischer's first time. 

"Please, use your fingers or-or something, inside me," he begs, voice jagged. He struggles to still himself, wrists straining at the rope. 

Gui returns with lube, from his room, and is on his knees behind Fischer, sliding slicked fingers into him, slowly at first. "Do you want this? Are you mine?"

"Y-y-yes. I do want it," he whispers raggedly. "For helvede, knep mig, Gui, Gui please fuck me. I want it."    
  
Muscles flex, straining at the tethers holding him back. Fischer is a large man, intimidating, yet naked and bound like this, he feels incredibly defenseless. It makes him  _ so _ hard; his cock bobs, red and aching, a strand of precum dripping from his tip onto the floor. 

"My Allan Fischer," Gui croons, slathers his own cock and then stands, tugging the ropes down and holding the ones binding Allan's hands. He slides into Allan slowly, pulling him down.

Fischer tenses when he feels the invasion, inhaling deeply. It burns; it feels so strange, but he throws his head back to get more contact with Gui, focusing all his efforts on relaxing. Gui slides one arm around Fischer's chest tugging the bound man down over him, still slow, letting him get used to it, and biting his ear. 

Fischer is so grateful for how gentle Gui is with him, and he can't actually believe his angel is being so tender. It makes his heart swell; he loves the pain, but this sweetness is perfection. He dissolves in pleasure. Fischer’s body goes lax, affording Gui easier entry, and the smaller man buries himself deeper. The fullness begins to feel  _ so _ good as he yields to accommodate Gui's cock. He can't even pinpoint when it happens, but on an exhale, the boy sinks in completely, and suddenly he feels he can't get  _ enough _ . "Gui, you can move now, please, please fuck me," he pants. 

Gui presses in fully, up on his toes to do it, and starts to move back and forth, fucking Fischer with abandon. He bites Fischer's shoulder, breathing hard against his neck. "I'll kill you if you ever leave me." 

Fischer groans as Gui starts fucking in earnest. "I swear to god I won't. Fuck, harder, _ harder, _ please, bite harder..." 

Gui sinks sharp teeth into Fischer's shoulder, nearly taking a chunk out of him, fucking up into him fat and stern, growling deeply from his chest. He pinches his nipples, and scratches down Allan's chest possessively. Fischer's body pulses and throbs, his cock dripping, the head purple and engorged. Gui is striking a place deep inside his body that he’s never known could make him feel like this, and Fischer is keening, panting, and lost in the sensations overtaking his body.

"Come," Gui whispers, a promise and a command, wanting to feel the way Fischer throbs around him, as he's sure this one of those things he won't take from his Allan very often. He reaches around to stroke him in time with his fucking. 

Fischer's vision goes white, the heat pooling from deep inside reaching a pressure point he can no longer hold back. Like a shock wave coursing through his body, the most intense orgasm he's ever experienced shoots through him. He's shouting curses - in what language, he knows not. English, Danish, Gui's name, it's all a blur. His body spasms around Gui's thick cock as he comes. The sweet throbbing pulls Gui right over with Fischer, panting against his shoulder, where he bites again, hard, growling and groaning. The boy fills Allan's ass with come, and it drips hot and sticky down the back of his thighs. Settled, Gui nuzzles Fischer's neck and cuts him down. 

Fischer turns, seeking Gui's mouth, desperate to taste and look at him as he comes down from such a high. "My beautiful Gui, you are mine. I am yours," he murmurs, voice low, peppering kisses across Gui's collarbone, his chin, cheek, and lips. 

Gui gathers himself in Allan's now free arms, and kisses him deeply, tongues lathing, still panting. "Just yours. Keep me."

"I'll never let you go. Never." Fisher licks into Gui's mouth, still panting and blissed out, wrapping his arms around him, running his freed hands over him. "No one can take you from me." 

Gui wants to be Allan's only, his anchor, his everything. He’ll kill anyone who gets in his way. Pulling away, Gui unties Allan's feet, freeing him completely. "We should clean that up," he says, touching the initials over his heart he had carved.

Fischer runs fingers over the wound, looking down then over at him with a smile. "I'll have to think of how and where to mark you as mine. Where's your sink, darling?" 

Gui leads Fischer through to the dingy, gross bathroom, but he had a medical kit in there, and fished it out. "Mark me?" 

Fischer turns on the water, not reacting to the condition of the facilities, and grins. "Yes, like you carved your initials into me. Anyone who sees my chest will know I belong to you." He stares at Gui. "I need to do the same to you." 

"I'll let you," Gui said, setting out some swabs, gauze and tape. "Anything you want." 

Fischer washes the cuts with water and a questionable piece of soap. He dabs it dry with a washcloth, and begins dressing the wound. The older man glances up at Gui. He still naked, curls askew, a dewy sheen over rosy cheeks. Fischer can’t believe the boy is his, and he'll do anything to keep him. "Good," he says simply, looking in the mirror at his chest to get the gauze straight. 

"I adore you infinitely," Gui said quietly, as if it were a secret. They'd only known each other a few days, but Gui was taken and smitten. 

Fischer finishes up, nearly dropping the roll of bandages. He sets it down, takes Gui’s hand in his, and lifts it to his lips, kissing each knuckle slowly. "I'm not good with words, but I hope you know," he whispers between kisses, "how deeply, how utterly, you've marked me, inside. This," he places Gui's hand on his heart, over the dressing, "goes deeper than my skin." 

Gui pushes his palm into the bandage and then slides his hands up Fischer's shoulders, pressing a kiss against his lips. "Did you enjoy yourself?" 

Fischer slips his arms around Gui's waist. "Yes, I did. I’m pretty sure I’ve never come harder." He grins. "You're a fucking fantastic top. Amazing. I hope you'll do it again. When I least expect. Wicked angel." He slaps the boy’s ass playfully. 

A smiles flits across Gui's lips and he moves in closer. "Surprises are the best times," he whispers, and bites Fischer's bottom lip, sucking on it with a hum. "What do you want to take back to your place?" Gui means of everything here.

Fischer's amber eyes light up. "Definitely the ropes. The chains. Cuffs, blades. I'll help you carry everything, gorgeous. You have a bag or two?" He sighs into Gui's bites, one hand groping his ass and lower back firmly. 

"I've got a box," Gui answers, and finally lets go, searching around the apartment naked, packing everything into a box. 

Fischer follows him, watching. He leans against the wall and something pokes him in the back; another hook, caked in blood. He chuckles, looking at the breathtaking sight of the naked young god throwing various implements of torture in a bin. Gui has put everything into the box; he doesn't plan to come back if he can help it. He'll keep the apartment for his work, but when he leaves, he'll have to find a new one for this stuff, where Fischer lives. He dresses slowly, kicking the box to Fischer. "What?" 

Fischer blushes a little "Enjoying the view. Take anything you want to bring with you. I want you to stay with me. At the hotel." Fischer looks back up at him. "Is that what you want? Because it's what I want." 

Gui doesn't have a lot, so he's packed it all into a box. He doesn't really have clothes either, just what's on him. "It is. I'm excited," the boy admits, almost bashfully as he kicks Fischer his clothes.

Fischer grabs the garments and tosses them in the carton. He pulls on his pants, zipping up the fly, and shrugs on his shirt and jacket. "I'm fucking beside myself, love. Ready?" Fischer smiles and picks up the box easily; it’s not heavy for him. 

Gui grabs Fischer’s holster, putting it on with a grin, followed by his jacket. "Yeah, ready." Fischer mentally smacks himself but has to admit, Gui looks ridiculously hot in his shoulder harness. 

Gui just smirks and goes out ahead of him through the narrow series of alleys. "I distract you," Gui taunts, smacking Fischer's ass with a grin, and then makes his way out of the alley with him. 

“Yes, you do. You're very dangerous," Fischer laughs. He's watching where they are going, alert, but side-eyes Gui. 

Gui hums, something mostly under his breath, knife in hand as they go out into the streets. It's dark now, and he knows better. With Allan at his side, he knows that it won't be as bad as usual. "You've no idea, Allan." 

"I think I might have some idea," Fischer murmurs. They make their way back to the hotel and Allan knows they could encounter anything, but if they do, he's ready. And Gui is formidable in spite of his appearance; perhaps it makes him more so. Fischer glances at him as they walk. No wonder he's so good at his job. No one ever expects Gui to be anything more than the twink he looks like. 

It works to his advantage, honestly. 

Gui hugs Allan from behind for a moment, nipping his neck, then releasing him as they walk. They approach the hotel, and Fischer sets the box down to fish the key from his pocket. He opens the door, picks up the box, and motions Gui inside with a grin. “Beauty before age,” he jokes. Gui shuffles in, closing and locking the door behind them. The boy flops down on the bed, hair going everywhere over the pillows. Fischer deposits the box on the dresser, and saunters over to the Gui, bending over his body to kiss him deeply. The agent thumbs open the clip on his holster, and removes the gun, tucking it into the small of his back before standing back up. 

"I just don't want any accidents, love." Fischer walks back to the dresser, removing the bullets, and puts the weapon in a drawer, stuffing the ammo in his pocket. He strides across the room, back over to the bed, and sits on the edge a bit gingerly.

“You had the safety on," Gui says, watching the way Fischer moves, a little stiffly, and smiles to himself for it. "Are you sore?" 

Fischer makes a face at Gui, and lifts his bottom off the bed a little "Yes, min skat...I have a feeling I will be for a couple days. But it was worth it. If anyone asks, I just hit the gym too hard." He rubs over Gui's chest, over his shirt. Just touching him and feeling his warmth makes Fischer's heart swell. 

Gui grins, devilishly. "You don't want to tell them I fucked you too hard?" 

"It  _ would _ make them jealous. But only if they saw you." Fischer ran a hand through the silky curls scattered across the pillow. 

"Jealous?" Gui is not unaware of the usage of words. 

"They will want what I have. And when someone wants something, they'll do anything to possess it,  _ if  _ they want it bad enough." Fischer says, his voice getting lower. He fixes his gaze on Gui's lips. 

"Not everyone is like us," Gui points out, quietly, well aware there are more people who would just as soon hate them both for what they love, rather than treasure them for it. 

"You're right," Fischer scoots closer, laying down next to Gui, facing the boy with an arm under his head. "But if they even looked at you the way I do, *I'd* be jealous." He traces lines along Gui's neck with his fingers. 

"Only you have my heart," Gui promises, touching Fischer's chest over his shirt, where his heart is. 

Fischer rolls over on top of Gui, arms on either side of him, pinning him down. "You have mine..." He mouths over his neck, sucking lightly, moving up, and taking his bottom lip between his teeth. He bites and sweeps his tongue over the soft, plump flesh, kissing him again. 

"I know I do, I carved my claim into it," Gui says, licking at Fischer's mouth slowly, and then kisses him deeper, tugging him over him, hands on his ass. 

Fischer fits so perfectly over Gui, and he shifts his hips, enjoying the way Gui gropes him. "Why is it, no matter how much I get of you, it's still not enough? I'm so hungry for  _ more _ of you." Fischer grazes his sharp teeth over the tender skin beneath the boy’s jaw.

If Gui had his way, he'd leave Allan tethered to the bed all day and never let him up. "I'd let you fuck me all day..."

Fischer rocks his hips teasingly into Gui, pressing him into the mattress. "Offer me that and I might. Tomorrow, I teach you to drive. The rest of the day though...I don't have to go back in until Tuesday..." Fischer whispers, leaning up on one arm to look at Gui intently. "I have to think of where to put  _ my _ initials...on  _ you _ ..."

"I get you for two days?" Gui asks, a smiling growing on his boyish features. "All to myself?" He hums and kisses Fischer again. "Would it help you think if I were naked?"

Fischer starts trying to undo his buttons with his teeth, looking up at him. He knows Gui doesn't have many of his own clothes and plans on eventually taking him shopping;  _ make him try things on in the dressing rooms of course _ , he thinks lasciviously. Sitting up on his knees, he gets a few free, and reaching his bellybutton, he licks inside Gui's navel and down his waist to his fly. "When we're alone you should be naked. I like this idea." 

Gui's fingers thread through Allan's hair, tugging out locks from hair product that was left, gazing down at him with blue doe-eyes and a grin that could make anyone stop in their tracks. "You'll come home and I'll be naked and waiting." 

Fischer tugs Gui's jeans over his hips, looking up at him with smoldering amber eyes, hypnotized. He licks his lips sensuously, and reaches between his legs to rub the outline of his prominent erection through the fabric of his jeans. "I'll be hard all day thinking about you, you know. Then I'll get home and I'll fuck you however I find you. Against the wall. On the stairs. On the floor. In the shower. In bed. In the car. Anywhere I want."

Gui feels himself flush for once, thinking about Fischer fucking him on the stairs, possibly with someone watching. He bites his lip. "I can't wait. More than once?"

"Over and over. I'll drain you, min skat." Fischer caresses his calves and feet, sinking teeth into his right ankle, massaging his arches and then kissing the pads of his feet and toes, lifting his legs over his shoulders. 

Never has anyone been so gentle and yet so brutal with Gui. He knows Fischer has it in him to destroy him and love him all at once. His toes flex, utterly submitting to Allan. "You'll have to if you expect to sleep." 

Fischer leaves a trail of bruised, sucking bites up the insides of Gui's thighs, slowing making his way up each leg, until he reaches a forest of dark pubic hair. He buries his nose in the delectable crook between thigh and groin, licking the seam and inhaling Gui's scent, murmuring as he moves, sinking teeth into the tender flesh of his inner thigh, and laving his tongue over Gui's heavy balls. "Do you even know how delicious you taste and smell? I could feast on you forever." 

Gui watches him, slowly trailing his fingers into Fischer’s hair, spreading his thighs for him. Licking his lips with anticipation, Gui groans a little. "And only me? You won't grow bored?" 

Fischer laps around the base of Gui's cock, looking up at Gui to make eye contact as he flattens his tongue, pressing up the full length. When he reaches the head, he curls his tongue around the tip delicately. His big rough hands hold the boy’s thighs down flat against the mattress, keeping him splayed open. Still fully clothed, Fischer whispers hotly against him, pressing lush lips against the side of Gui's hardness as he speaks. "I could never get tired of your perfection, my treasure." The older man sinks another bite into the tender skin of his upper leg, wrapping a hand around his hard flesh. 

Gui nearly wiggles with that, happy to hear it, and he'll hold Allan to it with his life. He sucks his bottom lip into his mouth as he is held in place, arching hips as much as he can against the feeling of teeth and tongue on him. "Promise?" 

Fischer's mouth descends upon Gui, taking him to the root, and sucking off the tip with a  _ pop _ . He reaches his hand to his own cock, which tents achingly in his pants, rubbing it for a moment, and casts a dark look at the gorgeous boy. "Cross my heart and hope to die. I'm going to make you my meal, angel." He opens his shirt, untucking it and throwing it off. Fischer reclines between Gui's legs and continues his feast, swirling the tip, tugging foreskin up, and pressing the bottom of his tongue over the slit. He  swallows the boy down to the very base of his cock to press the head against the back of his throat, humming deep.

If Fischer did dare break that promise, Gui was sure he'd kill him for it, plain and simple. But right now, Gui doesn't want to; his loins are burning, and his cock is dripping pre-come against Fischer's tongue. Fischer rubs the tip of Gui's cock over swollen, full lips, making them glisten. He licks it off and hums like it's a delicacy. With a ravenous grunt, he cups his hands under Gui's ass, lifting it easily, folding the boy in half so his knees fall back towards his head. He uses one strong hand to steady and brace him, and the other to hold his behind up, slurping wetly behind his balls and teasing his hole. Sinking teeth into a plush ass cheek, he clamps down fiercely, not letting go, and pulls at the skin roughly until he gets a sound from Gui. He finds his way beneath Gui's balls and over his cock, grazing his teeth lightly and continuing to suck, cheeks hollowing. Fischer is panting and animalistic, eating Gui with a passion, beads of sweat falling from his head down the boy’s legs.

Hissing when teeth clamp down like that, Gui lifts his his own hips high, toes curling, fighting instinct to kick Allan off. He tucks his knees to his chest, humming a moan that passes through his wet, pink lips. He writhes, nearly panting Allan's name. Fischer pulls his mouth off Gui's cock and wraps his hand back around to stroke, moving his head beneath him, and pushing his hips high to get to his ass again. Using his shoulder to hold up his hips, he fingers his hole, opening it and licking with a pointed tongue, a bit more forcefully around the entrance while stroking him. Between licks, nipping sharply at the rounded curve of his ass, Fischer growls. "I want to make you forget anyone who's ever fucked you before," he huffs in a rough, deep voice. 

Admittedly, Gui hasn't had that many, but seeing Fischer's jealousy shine through only makes him want to lie about it. He keens, hips bucking as each bite sends shockwaves of pleasure through his veins, and he can't quite reach Fischer's hair like this. "Fischer."

"Tell me what you want, beautiful," the older man rasps, licking over his hole and pressing a thick finger in just enough to watch the beautiful pucker press back against him. He's so hard, he rubs against his own thigh trying to get some relief. 

"Fuck me, Allan," Gui pants out, all but twisting to get his finger in deeper, like they hadn't fucked at all just a few hours ago, like the boy hasn't been touched in days.

Fischer presses one more kiss against his entrance, lapping greedily before getting up and standing to disrobe. His eyes devour Gui, lying on the bed, knees against his chest, looking at him like he's the only man in the universe, and Fischer almost falls over trying to get his pants off with his erection poking against his abdomen. He reaches into the nightstand for some lube, and he's dripping from his tip already. He dribbles some on, strokes himself as he kneels on the bed, and crawls to Gui, staring at him worshipfully. "You are my religion, my love," he whispers, pumping his cock a few times, before settling close between Gui's strong thighs and pressing his finger again into his hole. 

Fischer, Gui decides, is a goddamn tease, but he’s so hot and wanting he doesn't dare say it and make it worse. The boy pulls him down for a kiss, sloppy and wet, tonguing at his lips and biting. "Worship me, then."

Fischer holds his cock in one hand, rubbing the tip against Gui's hole before breaching him. Slow and deep, sheathed in the tight heat of Gui's body, Fischer looks into his eyes, slack-jawed in the wonder of how incredible he feels. He pulls back out again, inch by inch, just watching the reaction of the boy's gorgeous face. “You're a god," he rumbles, slipping his tongue into Gui's mouth in time with his thrusts.

The boy writhes at the slowness of it all, and yet drinks it in, as cruel as it is. He wraps long legs around Allan to get him closer, kissing him in wet sloppy motions, licking the roof of his mouth and groaning against his lips. "Harder."

Fischer pulls away from Gui's mouth to sit up, centers his hips, and pushes his knees up to get in tighter against Gui for better leverage. He pulls one leg straight up over his shoulder, biting an angry bruise into his calf muscle. The angle drives him deeper into the boy, and he rolls his hips into him, bucking hard and fast. Long toes curl as his ass is pummeled, Gui's mouth dropping open in sweet bliss as the pressure builds along his spine and the base of his lower back. Fischer's the most amazing man he's ever come across, and he's can't get enough, panting his name through growled moans. Fischer hammers into him, staring at his flushed cheeks, his perfect red lips hanging open. He lays his body over Gui's, pumping his cock in and out of him. Pressing plush lips against the boy’s long neck, he bites again until he tastes the metallic warmth he craves desperately, what he cannot get enough of, all of Gui's flavors, every part of him. Fischer moans at the sharp tang of blood; it spikes a fever in the older man, making him thrust frantically into his wicked beauty.

Gui grasps for Allan's shoulders, fingers slipping through sweat as he grips him tightly, holding him just  _ there _ against his neck; there’s a fire lit in his belly, and Allan just keeps adding fuel. "Allan, I'm..” God, he is so close he wants to burst, clawing up Allan's back. 

Fischer knows, he can feels his angel's body coiling up. "Yes, yes,  _ fuck yes Gui, _ oh god, please come for me, come for me and  _ only me _ ." He pumps his fist around Gui in time with his hips, filling him, cock fat and fully engorged, each staccato impact struck to perfection. Fischer wants to play his beautiful boy like a priceless Stradivarius, wants to draw his pleasure out, wants to fill him and drain him and carve carnal ecstasy into his soul. 

Gui feels himself start to melt from the inside out like lava overflowing within him. He's panting and clutching, burning Fischer's words to memory; he won't let himself or Allan forget them. Suddenly he's writhing under Fischer's heavy frame, exploding hot white all over his stomach and Fischer's hand. "Allan, please.  _ Yours. _ " 

Fischer feels Gui's body pulse around him, eyes soaking in the the debauched artistry of this fallen deity, curls stuck to his sweaty forehead, lips parted, arms reaching for him, his neck stained in crimson. Pearly beads of come are splattered across his taut belly; Fischer shudders and fucks him in a dozen sharp bursts before erupting inside, shooting seed into Gui, so much that it seeps out on his final thrusts, leaking from Gui's tender, abused hole. Fischer gently releases Gui's cock, staying inside him, and licks his come from his fingers. "I belong to you." Fischer says, savoring the sticky salty drops as though they were a life-giving elixir. "And  _ all of you _ belongs to  _ me _ . Your blood, your come, your body." 

Gui turns his head, breath finally coming down, and shares in the taste of his blood and come in Fisher's mouth with an exploring tongue, dragging him closer with a pleased humming sigh. "Better claim me then." 

Fischer sucks Gui's tongue lightly, then bites his bottom lip and kisses him, running his hands through the boy’s damp curls. "I will carve my name over your heart as you did mine." He slips down and tenderly kisses the center of Gui's chest. 

Gui smiles and kisses Fischer and his head as he moves, not sure how he got so lucky to meet this man. "Did you think you'd be here right now when we ran into each other?"

"I didn't think anyone as gorgeous as you would give me a second glance, I admit. Thought you were just a gorgeous lost angel, surely with  _ someone somewhere _ spoiling you rotten. Never did I dare to hope..." Fischer's eyes grew softer and he placed a large hand against Gui's cheek, holding him there. "You are  _ so special _ to me, my love." 

Gui nuzzles like a little dog against Allan's hand, affection the one thing he craves, but never asks for from anyone. "I haven't let anyone until I met you." 

"I'll take care of you beloved boy. And I want to give you everything you want. Pleasure, pain, anything. And use me for the same." Fischer practically purrs at Gui's nuzzling, his heart aching in his chest under Gui's initials, burning for him. 

Gui claws down Fischer's back with his nails, and kisses the horrid words right out of his mouth, biting his tongue. "What don't you want from me? Boundaries?" 

Fischer groans at Gui's claws in his back. It's so perfectly possessive and primal. "You make me want, and want, and  _ want _ . No.  _ No boundaries _ . Nothing between us. If I could claw off our skin and climb into you, I would. Nothing between us." Fischer can't believe the words he says, and yet he can't help himself at all. 

"I'd wear you like a suit if it were possible, but then I'd never get to kiss you or fuck you," Gui whispers, almost innocently, vivid blue eyes gazing up at Fischer. He reaches for his jeans and fishes out the switchblade, and hands it to Fischer. 

Fischer flips the blade open, staring into Gui's eyes with piercing amber ones. "I would die if I couldn't look at you, kiss you or fuck you." He rubs his hand over Gui's chest. "Do you want this?" 

"Yes. Maybe even more than you," Gui says with a toothy grin, pressing his chest up into Allan's hand. "Make it hurt. Deep." 

Fischer takes the knife, looking once more into his eyes. He knows he's never loved anyone the way he loves Gui. He presses the tip into pink skin over his heart, slicing down cleanly through to begin the letter "A". Dark beads begin to seep from the edges and stream down his chest in a thin ribbon. "You are breathtaking", Fisher says softly. He curves the blade around, looking up at him to see if he's alright. 

Gui is more than okay, he's swimming in the pain, flushed from head to toe again, drinking in the sight of Fischer carving his name into his soul, so to speak. "Keep going." 

Blood drips and spreads over his chest, onto his shoulder and across the white linens, bursting into blooming crimson. Fischer kneels reverently before Gui as he starts on the "F"; he cuts deep through flesh, looking up now and then at the orgasmic look of ecstasy on the boy’s face. He dips his finger in some of the blood and sucks it from his fingertip. 

Adding the last cut of the letter, he bows before Gui, licking his chest just beneath the wounds and down his belly to clean the blood. He places his hand over Gui's heart; over the wound. "No one's ever loved you like  _ I do _ . No one ever can." 

"They never will," Gui says, and the pain is making his limbs shake a little, but he’s so far into blissful pleasure that he hardly notices. "Tethered to each other."

Fischer tosses the blade aside and lays over him, pressing their chests together. He holds the boy’s face in both hands, licking into his delicious mouth, still tasting of blood. Sucking his lips, running tongue over teeth, he moves up to his ear, kissing and biting his way up to it. "My beautiful angel, Jeg elsker dig. I love you, more than anything," he whispers. 

Gui is in heaven, a lust-blown gaze darkening his eyes wider than ever, breath hitching in his throat as he arches against Fischer with a groan. "Completely yours. I would die first than be cut loose." 

Fischer runs his hands along Gui's neck and collarbone, rubbing small circles. He is drowning in the blue ocean of his beauty’s eyes, the expression of pure ecstasy from the high vibrating through his body into Fischer’s. The older man touches him tenderly, wanting to hold him close in these beautiful moments. "I would too, min skat. We're permanently connected. Entwined." Gui contently wraps arms and limbs around Fischer, keeping him close. 

He loves every inch of him, every part of him, and if Fischer ever wanted to leave, Gui would gladly feast on him for a meal. Keep him with him always. "I love you." 

Fischer's heart soars at the words.    
  
"I'll clean and dress your wound in a bit, my darling. Want to make sure it heals beautifully." He kisses his temple and holds Gui in his arms. 

Gui beams with that, he's only ever been pushed aside after sex, or told to leave. He's never minded before, but was sure if Fischer had done that he might have killed him, slowly. "Okay..." 

Fischer kisses Gui gently and rises, tuning and taking his hand. "Come on darling, let's get the medical kit and get you cleaned up and bandaged." 

Gui takes the help and gets up, beautifully sore, and walks with Fischer to the bathroom, looking for the hotel first aid. "Do they have one?" 

Fischer nods towards the mirrored cabinet in the bathroom and pulls out a small plastic box. He opens it and sets aside some gloves, Neosporin, gauze, and tape. "Yes, love." He takes a washcloth and rinses it under warm water, soaping it up and testing to make sure it's not too hot. He gently wipes down the excess blood on Gui's chest, rinses the cloth, and dabs closer to the wound. Looking down lovingly at Gui, he remarks, "This might hurt a little, but not too much." Fischer gently presses the cloth at his own initials over Gui's heart. 

"Pain is relative to what you make it," Gui says, watching Allan as he takes care of him, loving and careful where Gui knew he could brutal and violent, and hoped to get it out of him. 

Fischer reaches up to the towel rack and grabs a fresh towel, drying Gui off. He puts on the rubber gloves and applies the cream, sliding the tips of two fingers over the cuts. "I did enjoy when you did it to me, you know." Dark eyes flit down to lighter ones. Fischer finishes with the cream and unrolls the gauze, trims off what he needs, and lays it on the center of his chest. He peels off the gloves and tosses them in the trash, retrieves the tape, and secures the edges. "You're lucky you have very little chest hair, gorgeous." Fischer says, and playfully pinches his nipple. "All good now." 

Gui's eyes light up to hear Fischer enjoyed the pain. He wraps his arms around Fischer and rests his chin to his chest, smiling innocently up at him. "We'll never grow bored of each other." 

Fischer smiles down at Gui, kisses his nose and nuzzles his ear, biting the lobe. "No, we definitely won't." He leads him back to bed and undresses, climbing under the covers. "Think you can sleep now, angel?" 

Gui nods and climbs into bed with Fischer just as naked, and curls himself around Fischer. "Don't forget you're taking me driving tomorrow," the boy whispers excitedly.

Fischer wraps his arms around Gui, drawing him in close.  _ Our bodies fit together so perfectly, _ he can't help but think to himself when Gui tucks into him, clinging. "I won't forget, my treasure." He kisses the boy once more before he falls asleep. 

* * *

 

Danish Translations:

knep mig: Fuck me


	3. Chapter 3

In the morning, Gui is up first and in Allan's face, sitting on him, floppy hair around his face as he gazes at him. As Fischer wakes, he feels weight on him. He opens his eyes and looks up to see Gui straddling him, all flushed cheeks, blue eyes and tousled curls. "What a delicious sight to wake up to, my gorgeous wicked one. Mmm. Come here." 

Gui moves up Allan and kisses him deeply on the mouth. He's already dressed, and he's excited for the day. "Mornin'."

Fischer kisses him back, squeezing his backside. The older man emits a little grumble and grins at him. "I need coffee. We'll get some on the way to the naval base I'm taking you to." He pushes Gui off a little playfully, and goes to the bathroom to wash up.

Gui rolls off Fischer and lays there watching him, clearly too perky in the morning, but he hardly sleeps much, yesterday being the exception. "Where's the yard?"

Fischer leans on the sink brushing his teeth, and seeing how excited his boy is, he decides to skip shaving. Sauntering to the closet to get his clothes, he answers. "It used to be a navy base, but it's completely abandoned. There are big empty airplane hangars and a wide-open, inactive tarmac. It's about a twenty minute drive from here. A couple of the guys took me to a movie at this old theater nearby. They play old fifties B-horror flicks there on the weekends, that's how I found out about it. We got lost and wound up on this old fucking naval base." He laughs. "The place is empty. Nothing to hit out there."

Gui hums until Fischer is talking again, putting on his boots and smoothing down his only pair of jeans over his legs. "You do a lot of things with people?" Gui doesn't know what it's like to have friends like that.

Fischer zips up his fly and shoves his wallet and phone in his pockets. The broad-shouldered man pulls on a shirt and walks across the room towards Gui. "Not much, just the occasional beer if they invite me. I don't know anyone here. They were trying to be friendly, me being the new guy from the weird country. Back home? Yeah we'd blow off steam and go out. I wouldn't say I was close to many people though." He puts on his watch. "I'm ready, love. Let's get some coffee and breakfast and go. They have some shitty stuff in the lobby but there's a shop on the corner, we can walk there and then take the car. Sound good?"

Gui just listens quietly, and then nods. He's on his feet fast, arms around Allan, unable to get enough. He doesn't want to share to him, not now or ever, with anyone or anything, but he knows he must. "Sounds good."

Allan opens the door and places his hand in the small of Gui's back to guide him as they walk. Fischer loves just touching him at any opportunity he has. "Have you ever been to the movies, Gui? I'd love to take you to one."

Gui looks behind him and shakes his head as Fischer locks the door. He presses back into his touch. "Movies? The big tv?"

Fischer walks and puts his arms around Gui's waist. "Yes darling, it's a big room with an enormous screen, and you watch a show on it. Sometimes there's a lot of people there, sometimes not many. It's dark and cozy. They have popcorn and treats, and if we sit in the back, we can do all kinds of things." As they approach the coffee shop, Fischer says the last part in a deeper voice and leans close to Gui's ear, kissing just beneath it.

Gui leans into the kiss there, blood pumping hard at just the thought. He groans softly, giving Fischer a look under dark lashes. "Sounds like fun."

He holds the door open for Gui. "I think we'd make it fun." He smirks and walks in. The waitress, an older woman, motions for them to sit where they like. It's an old fashioned greasy-spoon-style diner. Fischer heads for the counter and sits in on the round, red plastic swivel seat, patting the one next to him and smiling at Giu. "You like sausage and eggs? We should get some protein today," he winks at him. "Two coffees, Miss." Turning to Gui, he asks, "Oh, do you drink coffee? Would you prefer orange juice, love?"

Gui shrugs slim shoulders. "Coffee is fine." Cheaper too on the streets, than orange juice. Gui sits and twirls around once in the stool and then grins over at Fischer. "Yeah, that sounds fine."

Fischer has a smile plastered on his face watching Gui twirl on the stool like a kid. It's so adorable. "How do you like your eggs? I'd guess beaten...I mean scrambled," Fischer says dryly, grinning at his corny joke. He's a little giddy being out and about with Gui, and excited to teach him to drive.

"Beaten is fine," Gui said slyly, and leans over to kiss Fischer's cheek while he plays with the sugar packets, humming. Fischer's chest stirs at this, and he blushes. It’s amazing how something so innocent can make his heart hammer so fast. He quickly pecks Gui back. "Two sausage and eggs, one scrambled, one over-easy. Thanks," he quips to the waitress.

Coffee is set down in front of Gui, and he stirs in a lot of sugar, and then still makes a face when he drinks it, but that doesn't stop him. He kicks his feet that barely touch the ground, taking in everything around them. He hasn't eaten in these places, just behind them.

Fischer drinks his coffee black. He absent-mindedly builds a little house out of a book of matches from the counter. There are so many places he wants to take Gui and tell him about, but the boy is already so excited and he doesn't want to overwhelm him. "I learned to drive on a stick shift. That's a manual transmission engine. Do you know anything about cars, Gui?" Fischer asks, carefully balancing the sulfur end of a matchstick on the little house he's making.

Gui watches him carefully; he likes every last bit of Fischer, even the little things like this. He leans on one elbow, facing the other man. "Enough. I know what all the gadgets do." Maybe. Sorta. Okay, maybe just a few.

"You won't need to worry about it with this one, it's automatic. Most are, except maybe high-performance sports cars. If you're driving in snow or mountains it's better, but we won't worry about that. Denmark is flat as fuck and it rarely snows." Fischer turns to look at Gui. "I want to take you home so badly. You have no idea, Gui."

"Your home?" Gui asks, wondering where Fisher lives, what it’s like there. Had to be better than his place or a hotel room.

"I have a small house in Skørping, It's not much. But it's a nice place, comfortable." Fischer takes a swig of coffee. The waitress brings their food on two big plates. "I miss my pastry for breakfast, but nothing like that here, not many real good bakeries," Fischer comments. "We have the best bakeries back home. Wait until you have them, they're so buttery, flakey they just melt in your mouth."

"Pastries?" Gui knows about day old croissants, donuts, etc, but isn't sure what Fischer is talking about. He looks down at his plate and digs in, sitting up to shovel eggs and country potatoes into his mouth.

"We have one called, kanelsnegle cinnamon snail," Fischer speared the end of a sausage with his fork and bit off most of it in one bite. "I could only compare it to cinnamon sticky buns here, but...nothing like the same, ours are so much better. Very messy, but incredible. Mmm."

"Snail?" Gui wriggles his nose and chomps into sausage and toast, the boy can eat a lot considering how small he is. "But it's not made of snails right?" He side eyes Allan warily.

Fischer laughs out loud, completely caught off guard by the innocent question. "Oh darling, no, no. It's called 'snail' because it's in the shape of one, coiled up. They roll out the pastry, then layer cinnamon and sugar glaze and roll it, so it looks like a snail, in a coil. Like cinnamon rolls do here." Fischer is smiling ear to ear at how cute Gui is.

"Oh." Gui shoves more food into his mouth and washes it down with coffee after some thought about that. "But not the same?"

"Completely different from both an animal snail and American pastries, yes. Far better. I'll buy you one when you get there, fresh from the oven. It's an experience the first time. When I was a boy it was my favorite part of Saturdays. I'd ride my bike to the shop and go get them for us."

"You and your family?" Gui asked, finishing his whole plate of food without even stopping for air almost. 

Fischer looked at his plate, amused. "You must have a hollow leg, gorgeous. Yes...for my Mor and Far, uhm, .mum and dad."

"They're nice?" Gui asks, and finishes the coffee off and then steals some of Fischer's potatoes off his plate with his fork. He doesn't have parents, not real ones, not ones that were his. 

Fischer sighs. "Yes they were. They passed on. Mum when I was just going into the force. Dad, a few years back." Takes a swig of coffee, pushes the plate to Gui. "Can't eat anymore, you finish if you want."

Gui finishes Allan's meal too, and then twirls on the stool again. "Sorry they died. You miss them?" Gui doesn't know many human functions or feelings, but he likes to learn about them, hoping to get them.

Fischer nods at the waitress refilling his coffee. He knows Gui has no context to understand parents or family, and it seems so unfair to him. It upsets him that his creator made this beautiful creature but didn't allow him the benefit of growing up, having a real life. "Yes. Dad was old and lonely, depressed after Mum died. And Mum had been very sick. I miss them, but I'm alright. Death is part of life. We have to live every day like it's our last. Never take it for granted." He grimaces. That sounds so..trite. “In my line of work I see death everyday. So you learn to deal with it. But I just mean...have fun and enjoy yourself and do things as long as you can. You never know when it will end. And if it doesn't before long we'll be old.." He smiles warmly at Gui, drinks his freshly hot new cup.

Gui blinks at Fischer. He lives everyday like that, but he's not afraid of death, he almost welcomes it, thinking of it as  another adventure. He bites at the left over toast and then sips his warmed coffee. "Are you a father?" he asks innocently,  though with Gui it never is.

Fischer licks his lips slowly and turns away to get the check from the waitress. He uses the opportunity to try and gather himself. He'd hoped not to deal with this question yet. But if he was taking him home, he'd find out, and it was better to be honest now. "Yeah. He lives with his mother and her husband." He stops a little short.

Gui knew about the ex-wife, but not the child. He's a little envious of the kid. "How old?" The question has come out more innocent than he wants it to, but he doesn't hold ill toward kids, he just doesn't like them much.

"Ten." Fischer says, handing the waitress money. He feels as though Gui is going to be jealous and he's uncomfortable, perhaps even a bit nervous. "I don't see him much. A couple times a month."

"You call him at least?" Gui has no control over his outrageous feelings, he has no idea how to control them or keep cool when he should He's hot headed and compulsive. Allan makes him a little less, but Allan is also  _ his _ .

Fischer turns to Gui and smiles, rubs his arm. "Let's go. Yes, when I can, and when she lets me. It's complicated." He sighs and opens the door for Gui, pulling out his smokes. He lights one up.

Gui gets up and walks out with Allan, watching him smoke, and then looks around before heading back to their car down the way. "She sounds horrible," he said honestly.

"She's not. Things just happened. We've moved on. I try to be a good dad. but he spends more time there. and I have this job. There’s not much to do about it." Fischer shrugs and puts his hand on Gui's neck. "You don't need to be jealous," he says finally, looking over at Gui.

"I'm not jealous," Gui says, pointed and with some guard up, but looks at Allan as they walk. But if Allan's job got in the way? Well. They approach the car.

Fischer unlocks the door and turns Gui around to face him. The older man pushes him into the car with his body and dips his head down to kiss his lips. Releasing him gently, he looks into Gui's eyes. "Good."

Gui smiles a little at that, a bit more of his energy returning, deciding to put it behind him for now, as Allan is all his for the day. They are going driving now. Gui gets in and buckles, if only because he knows he has to.

Fischer pushes the car to start and turns on the radio; it's an 80's rock station playing Def Leppard-  _ Pour Some Sugar On Me _ . Fischer laughs. "You listen to music at all, Gui? I'd love to watch you dance to this." He gives him a sly wink. "I bet you're a good dancer."

"I'm good at a lot of things," Gui says, though he doesn't know this song, he's programmed with Graham's likes, nothing too great. "You'll see."

"I know you're good at many things already...I can't wait to find out what else, min skat," Fischer drives a little faster as they get on a main road, merging into traffic. "Nothing to hit out when we get out there, so I can  _ really _ show you how it's done. Tons of airbags in this thing too, though hopefully we won't need them."

"Do you think we will?" Gui smiles devilishly, and patted Allan's thigh, gripping the muscle there with one hand. Fischer grins. "I'll try not to scare you too much." He casts the boy a side-eyed glance. "You haven't seen me open her up yet, love. I've scared a few. Haven't broken this one in yet though."

"Afraid to scare me ?" Gui asks, wondering if he'll ever get Fischer out of his shell completely, as he sees so much that is hiding behind his goody cop exterior. Gui wants to rip it off and eat it and show Allan everything he really is.

Fischer speeds up, merging onto the freeway. "You  _ like _ being scared. I can make that happen for you, darling. Not yet, but I will." Fischer keeps his eyes on the road and smirks.

It would take a lot to scare Gui, as he hasn't had the fear yet, and he's not sure if he ever would. He's not found that spot of pain inside of himself that rips him apart and makes him feel what he feeds off of from others. "I don't know yet," he answers honestly, smiling a little over at Allan, slowly beginning to realize how strange he is compared to normal people like Allan, though it doesn't bother him nearly as much as he thinks it should.

Fischer passes a slow driver. "I like to think I drive with a purpose. Most people dislike riding with me," he chuckles. They are off the freeway and driving through what looks like an old military housing neighborhood, but neglected and empty; only a few cars here and there. They pass a large building with stairs and a marquee on the front. "There's that theater," Fischer comments as they pass it.

Gui watches, wide-eyed at the all the thing he's missed in his two months of being alive, not sure how that happened. "It's big," he says, unable to fathom watching big tv shows on it, or movies whatever they were called.

"Wait until you see this base," Fischer getting a little excited now. They turn a few corners, getting further from the neighborhoods and cars. Now there's no other traffic, nothing but overgrown weeds and asphalt. They drive through a gate, opened and unmanned. The lock has been broken off. Graffiti covers the "No Trespassing" sign; there’s a large fence, and then...tarmac. Flat open space, paved over, with yellow and white lines and numbers painted all over. To the left, suddenly out of nowhere, an enormous aircraft hanger. It seems even larger in the comparatively empty space of the flat wide open airfield. Fischer drives by the hanger slowly, heading for the middle of one of the runways. "This is it," he grins over at Gui.

There's never been so much open and flat space that Gui has ever seen, and that seems odd to him, and yet not, all things considered. He can't hit anyone out here, he can't run them over and a few times and laugh about it. He turns his gaze to Fischer. Maybe that's best not to do in front of him, anyway.

"We can go almost any speed out here; there's a lot of room." Fischer hit the gas hard and the car silently, smoothly accelerated within seconds. He takes his foot off the gas and sharply turns the wheel, causing a spin that forces them both against the backs of their seats. The car stops, and he jerks the wheel sharply the opposite direction, speeding up to one of the runways, and racing to 193 kph. When they came to a stop, he winks at Gui. “Can’t go much faster or the tires'll blow out."

The boy laughs through the whole thing, never once grasping for the handle by his head, but instead watches Fischer with excited and keen fascination. "What do I get to learn first?"

Fischer turns off the car, unbuckles himself and opens the door. "First, you sit in the driver's seat and I show you what all the buttons and knobs do. Come ‘round." He steps out and comes to the passenger side, opens it for Gui.

Gui gets out, giving Fischer a sneaky look, and then walks around the car to the other side and gets in. It’s weird on this side of things, and he has to move the seat a little to adjust to his height. "Okay?"

Fischer squats down beside Gui, pointing out various knobs. "Windshield wipers, if it rains or the window gets dirty. Directionals, signal when you're turning right or left. Here we adjust the mirrors so you can see behind you, to the left and right. Uhm, high beams. Emergency break. The left pedal on the floor is stop. Right pedal is go. The harder you push either one, the faster and stronger the response." Fischer was leaning into Gui's lap, hands on his thighs and looking up at him. He'd made sure the car wouldn't start just yet, not until he was ready.

Gui takes it all in, able to absorb all the information quickly. He follows Allan's gestures and movements and then looks down at him, sliding a hand through his slicked back hair, smile bright. "Sound easy enough."

Fischer grins. "OK well let me get in and we'll start then." Fischer closes his door walks to the other side and gets in, buckling up. "So as I said, the keys are here and we only need to push that button to start the car. See how the knob in the middle is pointed to "P"? That's park. It won't start if it's in gear. So go ahead and press the button, darling."

Gui watches Allan as he buckles himself in, smiling at the curve of his lips and the way he talks. He's admittedly fascinated by Allan, but can't quite pin why the other man has taken to him. He looks down at the gear shift, and then pushes the button to start the car again, and it revs to life. "Now I put it into...D?"

"Yes, love, but first put your right foot on the left pedal on the floor. You'll use your right foot to brake and accelerate. Hold down the brake, put it in D. Then take your foot off the brake and gently press the right pedal. Gently now, and hold the steering wheel. You'll see how it responds." Fischer's so excited watching his beautiful boy so eager to learn and focused.

Gui places his hands on the wheel and moves his foot to the left pedal and presses down, and then moved the gear into drive, having watched Allan enough to know how to. He's a quick to learn, but he doesn't want to do anything dumb and Allan take this away from him. Slowly, he eases off the brake and the car moves forward just a little until his foot is off the brake entirely, and he pushes it onto the right pedal.

Fischer beams. "Really good, love, now the harder you press the faster it goes. In D we go forward, In R we go backward." He watches him with a big smile.

A gleam lights Gui's eyes and he slams on the pedal, eyes going from Fischer to the road ahead of him, hands on the wheel, keeping them just going straight, the tires squeal a little, and then he grinds his foot into the brake, and pushes it into reverse, teasing on the limits and how the car reacts, much like he might do with a captive.

Fischer's heart goes into his throat and then straight to his dick at the look in Gui's eyes. He expected no less from him and that's why they're on a wide open aviation tarmac. "Well alright, then," he sighs, and he can't repressed the smile spreading over his face.

A grin curls around Gui's lips, as he looks around, they have a lot of space, so he slams it into drive again, this time taking his time up to a bigger speed, toward a fence, and then takes the turn sharply. He's honed with reflexes that are uncanny to most humans, sharp and skilled, and he shoots the car forward again, loving the feeling of Allan next to him and his excitement. Gui could live off that.

Fischer's instincts tell him to watch the road and take control of the car and yet he can't peel his eyes off Gui. “You said you'd never driven before," he manages in his shock. He's impressed, turned on, and his heart is pounding.

"I haven't," Gui says, squealing the car around into a circle with a glee of laughter. "I also told you I'm a clone made to kill, made to be good at anything." He wasn't made to be disposable, which was why the creator wouldn't just kill him off, likely his creator is watching to see how he adapts, and adapt Gui has, to everything he's given. He slams on the breaks, and looks over at Fischer. "I just have to be shown." Well good at everything but families and kids.

"I'll show you anything you want, my treasure. I love this. I have to be honest- I  _ really _ love it."

Gui makes a few loops around, fast and hard turns, and then he stops, and idles the car, looking over at Fischer with flushed cheeks and glittering eyes. He wanted a car now, but they would only be here ten weeks before he left to Denmark with Fischer. He had time. "What other things can you teach me?"

Fischer's mind is boggled at the possibilities... "Anything you want that ...that I know...there's just so much. You're incredible, Gui. I can teach you everything. Ahhh, I can show you something...If you watch me do it, can you replicate my moves? Is that how you like to learn?"

Gui nodded. Physical things were easy. Emotional ones not so much. "Yes. You show me how and I can do it."

Fischer peels off his seat belt. “Hop out let's switch," he blurts out, as excited as a kid.

Gui watches him and instead of getting out, he shifts over the middle console and plops down in the seat. "What now?"

Fischer gets in and buckles up. "Seat belt. I'm going to show you how to drift." He has a wicked look in his eye, waits for Gui to strap in.

Gui straps himself in. "Are you sure? It's a rental, Allan," Gui grins though, madly, like he loves this idea.

Fischer adjusts the seat and mirrors and hits the gas. "I'm sure. This car is a little bottom heavy but it'll do, I think I can do it." He gets to 80 kph, shifts into second gear, pulls the emergency brake halfway, and swings the steering wheel hard right, hitting the gas again.They spin out, tires squealing and smoking, and Fischer yells boisterously, excited.

Of course next to him, Gui is in hysterics of laughter and yelling, clapping instead of holding on for dear life. He's screaming with his excitement. He'd do this all day, whether he drove or Fischer did, it hardly mattered. Gui hadn't had this much fun in....ever.

Thrilled to see Gui enjoying it, Fischer does it several more times, adrenaline pumping. He never gets to cut loose like this, and he loves this kind of daredevil stuff. He used to do it in his youth, being a bad boy, a troublemaker. But being a cop, it only ever trickles out now and then. The curse of adulthood. He opens her up, taking the car to it's limit. Swerving all around the tarmac, he pushes harder even than Gui had. The Dane takes the straightaway until the back end of the car starts to lift off the ground, and only then does he ease off the gas. The Dane turns enough to make them spin wildly, almost flipping the car, but he maintains control, just sending them whipping in doughnuts across the pavement. Six circles, eight circles, like a centrifuge of steel. Enough to make Fischer feel his breakfast start to come up, but he keeps it down, screaming and laughing like mad. Finally the car comes to a stop. His face is red, he's gasping for air, and looks over at Gui, breathless. "Yeah?!" Grins ear to ear.

Gui is right there with Allan, laughing until his voice goes hoarse, and then can't even feel his face anymore. By the time they are done and stopped, he kicks the car into park and crawls out of his seat and into Fischer's lap, heart thumping loudly in his ears, he kisses him hard.

Fischer runs his hands up Gui's back, so full of energy, he pulls the seat back with one hand to give him more room in his lap. He eagerly licks into his mouth, pulling him into his lap closer. "You like that?" he whispers between kisses.

Gui finds the thrill alluring, and it makes him hard and throbbing under his jeans as he nods his head a little, sucking on Allan's tongue. "Wanted to jump you while you were doing it..."

Fischer can't believe how rapidly his body responds to Gui. He's hard in seconds, his tongue in his mouth, pushing up under his shirt to run his hands over hot skin. The rush is more than enough to make Gui just want Allan harder than anything he's ever wanted in his life. He groans against Allan's mouth, biting his bottom lip as he works buttons undone to touch his chest, to feel any inch of skin he can get.

"Gui..." Fischer gasps against his lips, he's sucking Gui's lip between his teeth. Molding his hand along the outline of Gui's cock on the outside of his jeans, he rubs his palm against it. "I want you so badly right now," he pants desperately.

Gui reaches and pushes the seat down to almost lying back, and undoes Fischer's pants quickly, pulling him out in his hand. "How?" he asks, eyes ablaze and dark with lust.

Fischer pulls Gui up over him, roughly, higher, teeth on his throat. He's frantically unzipping his jeans, shoving his hips up to push them down his legs. "I want you here, now, I want to fuck you, here, min skat, I need to be inside you..." Gui makes a groaning, whining sound in his throat and he kicks his jeans down over his hips and off, somewhere down below them, and sits over Fischer's cock, teasing him with a roll of his hips. "We'll fuck here, and then again at the movie you were talking about, and then in the car again, back at the hotel..." Gui can't get enough of Fischer, bending low to bite his lip again hard enough to bleed, he palms down his chest over the patched up carving on over his heart.

Fischer unbuttons Gui's shirt, hands shaking to try not to rip off the buttons. He can't fathom how needy he feels, and no matter how much he has Gui, he cannot get enough of him. "Yes, fuck, yes," he spits in his hand, slicking up his cock. It's already so painfully hard; he rubs it between Gui's ass cheeks for one stroke. It won't be enough, and it's going to hurt but he can't hold back, and he pushes inside Gui, looking up into his gorgeous face as he does, gasping at the way Gui's body sucks him in. "Ff f f f f UCK," he stammers out, slackjawed from the shock of the sudden grip Gui has on him.

Gui gasps as Allan's thick length is pressed into him near dry, but the pain feels good, and soon the spit is working, and Gui presses down on Fischer, rocking slim hips to take him in further, up against that sweet spot that makes him flush and moan. "Allan."

Fischer presses thumbprints into Gui's hips, gripping him on both sides. His angel is impossibly tight and hot. He reaches up, pulling Gui down by his hair; he needs his mouth, needs to taste him. Licking at the seam of his lips until his mouth opens, he whispering curses, panting as he bucks his cock into Gui in sharp thrusts.

Gui gasps hard and loud in Fischer's mouth as their tongues and teeth mesh and click, open-mouthed and sloppy. He presses his palms against Fischer's chest, pinching his nipples hard as heat builds up behind his eyes, spurring on with his bucking hips."Fischer... Fischer!"

One hand on his hip, one hand wrapped around Gui's cock, Fischer starts stroking him. The way the boy pinches his nipples drives Fischer out of his mind. He bites hard, clamping down on Gui's bottom lip, on a sore spot he'd drawn blood before, making it bleed again. The older man is filling Gui's ass over and over, fast and deep, wanting nothing but to make his beautiful boy feel the same exquisite pleasure he gives him.

"Gui, beautiful gorgeous Gui...so tight, ahhh I'm going to fuck you everywhere, gorgeous, everywhere... til you can't walk straight..." Fischer releases Gui's mouth and moves the hand that was on his hip up to his neck to bite hard on the spot he knows makes Gui lose his mind.

Writhing uncontrollably, Gui bucks and grinds, groping at Fischer anyway his hands can manage, as the his neck is abused with teeth and tongue. His mouths gapes open, panting and groaning, every last bit of him set aflame as he starts to feel the impending inevitable start to ebb and flow through him until he's coming in hot, sticky streams over Fischer's stomach.

Fischer loves watching him come apart over him, stares greedily when he can tear his mouth away from the taste he covets. Feeling the boy trembling and throbbing around him, Fischer wraps both arms around him, enveloping him, holding him flush against his body, and finds his release, stabbing himself into Gui relentlessly more than half a dozen times, breath hot against Gui's neck, moaning his name loudly, over and over. His body shaking hard, but he continues his hold on him, pressing him against his chest, not pulling out yet. The Dane pulls his knees up to keep him close. He can't let go; he can't quite even speak yet.

Gui loves the feeling of being held, of being cradled there against Fischer, held tight and breathing together. He pants against the other man's neck softly, and then licks the sweat away. "Wicked, Allan...." he hums, contently.

Finally finding himself again, coming back to earth, Fischer strokes Gui's damp curls. "Gorgeous. Perfect. Mine. I can't ever live without you, Gui." His chest rises and falls rapidly as he's catching his breath.

Gui sighs, and kisses Fischer's neck over and over back up to his lips, a sly smile on his lips. "I'm yours. Take me anywhere, do me anywhere, I'll never leave you." Gui was faithful so long as he was faithful to in return.

Fischer purred deep in his throat under Gui's words and kisses. Honestly he didn't even think he'd ever loved anyone this much. Not even Mille. Not Ida. No one. 

Gui was quiet for a bit, but his energy soars between them, and finally he cleans himself up and pulls his jeans up, and kisses Fischer lightly. "What movie are we seeing?"

Fischer zips up his pants and smiles at Gui. "Blood Beast Terror. It's from 1968, classic, with Peter Cushing...you don't know him, but he's a great old actor. It's not really scary, more funny. I think you'll like it though. We'll see. I'll help you enjoy it." Fischer winks at him playfully.

"I like your help in everything, Allan," Gui says playfully right back. He smiles wildly, and scoots over to the passenger seat. "Scary movie?"

"Yes...It's set in London. A series of grisly murders, all handsome young men in their 20's, all with their throats slashed, blood drained. They believe it's some kind of animal doing the murders," Fischer wiggles his eyebrows and starts the car.

"That's not scary," Gui says, incredulously, and buckled back up, hand son Fischer's thigh. "But I'm sure we can manage."

"I have a secret for you," Fischer whispers, "Movie theaters are just a kinky excuse to make out in public." He chuckles and starts the car up, revving the engine a bit before peeling out. "So the movie doesn't matter?" Gui asks, honestly. "At all?" His heart speeds with the car, never unhappy when Fischer looks at him like that, it makes his heart do things he never knew it could do.

Fischer grins. "Sometimes it matters. In your case a saint would be hard pressed to focus on a movie with you next to them. But in  _ this _ case...the movie is bad on purpose. It wasn't made to be bad, but so many years later, culturally, it's comical. Many people go to these movies to make fun of them, to laugh. If there's anyone there, they'll be busy laughing at the movie. We can watch or, not watch. Or both. And there are other movies that are good that you'll want to pay attention to. That are scary. I'll take you to those too." Fischer wants to do so much with Gui. There an endless possibility of things to show him, and that anticipation of experiencing so much of life for the first time through Gui's eyes is thrilling to Fischer.

"Bad on purpose?" Gui cants his head at Fischer as he listens to the explanation, not really getting it. He blinked innocent blue eyes, considering it it. As long as Fischer was with him, he'd find some way to occupy their time.

"That was not the best way to describe it...hmmm. When they made it back then it was scary to people because they had nothing else to compare it to. But since then, people have become so desensitized to violence because it's become more realistically portrayed in media, and games. Violence is more prevalent now too. People are not as reactive to it. So the very obviously fake prosthetic and makeup used in old films, doesn't have the same shock value it once had, and seems comical now. Does that make sense?" Fischer glances at Gui as he drives, hopes he doesn't sound condescending to Gui. He knows he has no way of knowing this and wants to explain it as easily as he can without dumbing it down.

Gui considers the answer and isn't felt talked down to in the least. He doesn't understand, but he strives to. He nods a little. "I guess so. But you'll take me to a better one sometimes right?" Allan had said, he just wants to be sure.

"I'll take you to a good movie, yes, min skat. A lot of them." He puts his hand on Gui's thigh.

Driving off the base, Fischer enters the parking lot of the theater and finds a spot. There are not many people there since it's a weekday. "It'll be quiet tonight. That's good." Fischer gets out and walks to Gui's side to open the door for him.

Gui enjoys Allan's chivalry, and gets out and then takes his hand. "Why are less people good?" he asks, leaning up against Allan, happily, a fresh glow of just been fucked about him, pink cheeks and sweat-damp hair.

Fischer leans Gui against the car, looks down at him, runs his fingers through his wet locks, pressing a kiss to his neck. "Because less people means I can do dirty things to you in the dark in there," he says breathily, licking under his ear and savoring the taste that is so distinctly, sweetly his Gui.

A grin spreads over Gui's face slowly, and he grasps Allan's shirt with his hands, gazing up at him. "You know to get to get to my heart don't you?" he asks, smirking as he tugs Allan in for a kiss.

Fischer kisses him deeply. "And you mine, darling, Come on, I'll get you popcorn and candy," Fischer takes his hand and leads him inside.

"Popcorn?" Gui asked, tilting his head up to Fischer in question. It sounds simple and yet he's never had it.

Fischer tugs his hand and leads him inside. It's an old, art deco style theater; a bit musty, old plush carpeting, the atmosphere of a building that has stories to tell. If you close your eyes, you can almost feel the presence of all the people that have bustled through it's corridors.

Fischer buys the tickets and goes up to the concessions. "Large popcorn, extra butter. Nice and greasy. Mmm, and Dibs, and a large Coke." Fisher turns to Gui with a smile, as excited as the boy is. He hands Gui the drink, nearly a bucket itself, and stabs a straw into the opening.

He takes the smaller container and pulls out a "Dib", holding it up to pop into Gui's mouth. "Open up", he says playfully.

Gui holds the drink, never having seen something so large in his life, and looks at the thing in Fischer's hand, and opens his mouth, trying to speak as he does. "What is it?" He's trusting, but he'd at least like to know what he's putting in there.

Fischer sets it on Gui's tongue. It's cold, hard chocolate candy shell on the outside, creamy vanilla ice cream inside. "It's ice cream. You can suck on it or bite down. It's like a BonBon." The older man watches him excitedly and eats one himself. Gui has no idea what a bonbon is either, but he ice down on it and his eyes light up with surprise, much like the mochi treat they'd had the other night. He grins madly, and opens his mouth for another.

Fischer gives him another and takes him by the elbow, steering him around the corner to a hallway leading to the theater. He puts the ice cream in his own mouth, takes Gui's chin in his hand and slips it onto his tongue, parting with a kiss. "You're more delicious than the ice cream, gorgeous," he says, and leads Gui into the theater to find a seat. Gui hums at that as the ice cream melts between their lips, and once Fischer has pulled away, he licks his lips and follows, all too happy to be lead around.

The theatre was semi-dark, and like nothing Gui has ever seen before. Fischer picks a seat in the far back corner, knowing his wicked boy will prefer it...and so will he. The theater is vast, and red velvet covers the walls and seats. "We should be cozy back here, don't you think?" Fischer says, sitting and holding the seat down for Gui. The armrest pulls up, and he lifts it so there's no barrier between their seats.

"Perfect," Gui says, sure that hardly anyone will be there anyway, and only wants to curl up next to Allan as it is. He grins as he takes his seat, and shifts himself up against Allan's side, sipping the sweet drink that is almost too sweet to bear.

Fischer feeds popcorn to the boy playfully, sharing with him. He puts one arm around him to draw him closer as the movie begins. Gui sits back and watches, eating the buttery popcorn, and finding the soda went really well with it, he could see how people liked it. The movie seemed corny, and not at all scary, but Fischer did warn him... "This is silly," he whispers.

"It's very silly. It's actually very funny. The main guy was a respected actor, said this is the worst film he'd ever done," Fischer kisses his ear. "People like these kind of movies now to laugh at them, poke fun at them." He grabs another handful of greasy popcorn, licking his fingers after shoving it in his mouth. He watches Gui more than the screen. He loves watching his reactions to everything.

"Do all actors make these mistakes?" Gui asks, not sure exactly what actors did but shouldn't they know better? He grabs for the little ice creams bits, popping one into his mouth.

"Yeah I think they all make movies they wish they hadn't. This one probably didn't seem as bad then as it does now," Fischer takes one of the Dibs and lets it melt in his mouth. They watch in silence for a while and Gui snuggles in closer and sets the soda on the ground, running a hand up Fisher's thigh to his stomach, unable to keep his greedy little hands off. 

Fischer sighs when he feels Gui's hands on him. Runs his head to the back of his head, massaging lightly, fingers entwined in curls. He tilts Gui's neck, just rubbing his lips over the sweet soft skin teasingly. The slow movements of their hands and Fischer's lips was blissful in a new way.

Nothing was ever slow with Gui unless it was torture. He hummed a whining noise of approval, goosebumps splayed across his creamy skin as his fingers gripped around Fischer's thigh. Fisher's lush lips fasten on the side of Gui's neck, sucking skin between his teeth gently. Reminding Gui what those teeth can do, the older man makes a low appreciative rumble that vibrates. Even something as simple as the skin of his neck is a delicacy to him, the flavor of Gui's skin, his scent is addictive to Fischer. He slides his hand down Gui's back rubbing small circles.

Gui arches into Fischer's hand, anything to get more of his touches, over and over again, anywhere on him. He gasps out at the bite, and reaches up to hold Fischer's mouth there, to bruise and claim in, he'll wear it proud because he wants people to know Fischer is the only one that gets to have him. "Allan..."

The boy is so responsive, so alive, so willing and beautiful. Fischer feels himself thickening with raw need, hours after having fucked this boy, and he is in awe again of their intense connection. "Yes, min skat," he whispers huskily against Gui's neck, nipping down the lithe neck.

Gui traces his fingers up Allan's thigh and over the ever growing bulge in his pants, palming him as his own body heats with desire. He turns his head and kisses Fischer as his response, his other hand sliding over his shoulders and up his neck. Fischer turns towards Gui, cradles his face in one hand, kisses him deeply, inhales his breath, sucks air from him as he licks around the inside of his mouth exploring the hot sweetness with a skilled tongue. He runs fingers down to find the heat between Gui's legs, equally hard. The Dane rubs firm and slow along his length.

Gui moves to pull Fischer over him as he lies down over a few seats, feeling his heated weight on him, groaning heavily with deep pants. He rolls his hips up into Fischer's hands. Fischer groans helplessly when Gui pulls him on top of him, and he can't resist him, foolish to think he could. Fischer manages to line up his own thickening length with Gui's and pushes them through fabric along side, grinding down and rocking hips slowly.

"This is very naughty, Gui," the older man murmurs against his neck.

"Punish me then," Gui says, all but begging for it, right here in the room with other people, making out and grinding against Fischer like nothing else matters. "Please."

Fischer moves to his ear and whispers harshly, whispers filth into Gui's ear to torture him as he rolls his hips, the friction of fabric enough to spark a fire between them. "I want to strip you bare, take you over my lap, spank you raw. Trap your dick between my thighs until you're dripping on the floor and crying. I want to hear you begging me to fuck you." He presses a palm into the center of Gui's chest, the wound still healing, and rubs harshly, clawing at it through his shirt.

Gui rolls his hips to catch more friction there, a moan escaping his lips as the wound is clawed, spiking pleasure down through his skin. He wants that now, but knows a public spanking is likely not something Fischer wants seen. "I need it, I've been very bad, Allan."

Fischer contemplates everything he wants to do to him in seconds, realizing what he can’t do. He wants to suck him off but knows his boy will moan loudly enough to draw attention. He'll have to stay on top of him so he can keep his mouth covered, contain some of his noises under his own. He shifts his hips up and flicks open Gui's zipper. Reaches inside to press his hand against hard, hot flesh. It takes all his will power not to get on his knees and take him in his mouth. He thumbs wetness from his tip, bringing it to his lips to suck, staring into Gui's eyes, his face illuminated by flickering lights of the movie.

Gui watches Allan, knows he won't get everything he wants here, but seeing Allan lick pre-come from his fingers makes Gui want to suck every last drop from Allan right there. "Allan," he whispers, licking the taste of himself from his fingers between their lips.

Fischer wraps a warm hand around Gui's cock, enveloping him in a rough palm at the base, tugging up and down slowly. "When I get you back to the hotel I'll punish you so beautifully, min skat. Now we have to be quiet. Shhh..." He covers his mouth and kisses slowly.

The frustration of clothing and restriction of movement makes it so much hotter than anything they've done so far...knowing they can be caught. Gui moans but the sound is caught in his throat and taken by Fischer's mouth. He curls his leg around Fischer's thigh, rolling strong and slim hips into Fisher's hand, gasping. Fischer grazes his teeth down Gui's throat sucking over his Adam's apple. He ruts his own erection into Gui's thigh, his hand on the boy’s cock getting slick with pre-cum as the boy writhes under him. Fischer knows he's going to come in his pants from this and doesn't even care. His boy makes him insane with lust; he pants heavily over the bruises he's made along his long gorgeous neck.

The movie is loud enough now to cover their noises, as it's reaching the climax of the film and the few people in the theater are too busy laughing at it and not noticing them. Gui presses a palm against Fischer's cock, reaching down to do so as he feels himself start to explode, seeping down Allan's fingers and all over them with a gasping groan. "Allan."

Fischer buries his face in Gui's neck, huffing and moaning, struggling to muffle himself, as he hump's Gui's thigh. He feels come pulsing up Gui's shaft and hot wetness gush over his fingers, he comes apart too, mouth pressed into Gui's skin and neck raking teeth against him as he grinds hard. He lays atop his boy's body, tremors shaking him in the moments afterward. "You're going to get it later for this," he whispers, smirking darkly at Gui as he pulls himself up, looking around to see if anyone's looking. No one is; the movie _ is _ coming to the end though.

"Promise?" Gui whispers, panting against Allan's shoulder gently, and then bites it through the fabric. He takes Allan's hand and licks his own come off it, slowly.

"In the most wicked way imaginable," Fischer whispers in Gui's ear, biting the lobe a little hard. He picks up the pop from the floor and takes a long drink, handing it to Gui; the credits are rolling. Fischer runs his hand through his hair and grins at Gui's flushed cheeks. Gui looks perpetually "just fucked", which he is, and Fischer loves it.

Gui rights himself as the movie ends and stuffs popcorn into his mouth and then takes a long sip of the coke, grinning over at Fischer. They wait until everyone leaves, and then he stands taking Fischer's hand as they walk out. "Where to?"

Fischer looks over at his beauty and smiles. "Want a drink? There's a nice tiki bar around the corner. Or we could just go right back to the hotel. It's your choice, gorgeous." He squeezes his hand.

Gui laughs. "You're a mess, but I'll take a drink," he says, wondering if leaving Fischer in such a state would earn him more punishment later.

Fischer looks down at his pants. He quickly pulls out his shirt so the bottom covers up the stain on the front of his pants and grins and Gui. "What? I'm fine. He laughs and leads him out of the theater to the car.

Gui smirks and walks to the car with Fischer, saying nothing else. He gets in and buckles, tapping his hands on his thighs as he waits. "It's a tiki bar you said? What is that?" Fischer gets in the car.

"It's a themed bar, Polynesian, lots of rum drinks with little umbrellas and coconuts, bamboo shit, tropical island type stuff. Kitschy. We can get one drink and go. They have great Mai Tais," Fischer starts driving. It's not far from where they are.

Gui has no idea what any of that means, but he does know if Fischer likes it, he will too. "One?" He grins.

Fischer pulls into the lot, parks in a dark corner as he has taken to do. He smirks at Gui. He'd love to get his boy a little drunk, he admits to himself. "Hmmm. We'll see." The Dane jumps out and jogs over to the passenger side to get the door for Gui. He quickly realizes as he does so that he is indeed very uncomfortable in these pants with his 'mess'. "Ahhh fuck. Just a minute."

Fischer pops the trunk open. "I have a pair of track pants in here. If you don't mind walking in with a man in track pants," he jokes. Fischer looks over the car and steps out of his shoes, unzips his pants and slips on the pants, crouching behind the car. It's dark, so no one can see him, but still he laughs. 

Gui shakes his head, he doesn't mind, and Allan is cute like this, a little worried and uncomfortable. "Why should I?" Fischer tugs at the drawstring and tosses his dirty pants in the trunk, closes it.

"Speaking of which, tomorrow, we go shopping for you. Would you like that? You need more than one change of clothes." He smiled and took Gui's hand, as they walked into the bar.

"Shopping?" Gui gazes up at Fischer, taking his hand as he threads their fingers together, palm to palm. "Sure..."

Fischer is so excited. He swings open the door. "I want to spoil you rotten, my wicked angel."

The bar is not too crowded for a weeknight. Island music plays in the background, and the ambiance is tropical, with grass and bamboo covering the walls. In the corner there is a fire dance performance going on, people are gathered to watch. A girl in a grass skirt and coconut bra comes up to them with flower leis and puts one around each of them, smiling. Fischer thanks her and walks up to the bar and orders them two Mai Tais, the special there. It's a lot to take in and Fischer looks at Gui, holding his hand throughout and squeezing it, hoping he's not overwhelmed.The alcohol will help.

It's more people than the boy is used to, but he sticks close to Fischer, and snuggles up to the bar with him. "What is in the drink?"

Fischer takes a long swig and licks his lips of the sweet cocktail, tilting the glass afterward to examine it. "White rum, dark rum, liqueur, lime juice..ahh...some type of syrup I think. It's pretty sweet, kinda girly, but once in awhile it's great." He grins at Gui, curious how rum will effect him. Fischer's an experienced drinker, so even if he has two he'll be fine, but he plans to only have one. Wants to keep his wits and take care of Gui.

As small as Gui is, it doesn't look promising, and he's never drank anything harder than beer or wine. He raises his brows at Fischer and takes a long sip, and then another, and after a minute or so his cheeks flush rosy. It's pretty sweet, but he doesn't mind. "Mm."

Fischer stares at him. An explosion could go off in the damn bar and he wouldn't notice. He can't take his eyes off Gui watching the blush rise in his cheeks, dark lashes framing those big blue eyes flickering down and up again at him innocently coy, like they hadn't been licking his come off the boy’s fingers in a public theater half an hour earlier.

The fire dancers are performing on a small stage, and Fischer hooks his fingers in Gui's jean belt loops, steers him over to watch. It's sensual. There's a shirtless, muscular, exotic looking boy swallowing a poker with flame on the end while a girl in a skin tinted barely there bikini swings weighted, flaming nunchucks faster and faster around her body, keeping them perilously close. Fischer sips his drink and pulls Gui close, standing behind him. "What do you think?" he asks, eyes only on Gui.

Gui watches but not really paying any mind as he only feels Fischer's heat behind him, familiar and warm, he wants to squirm back and bury himself in his scent. He takes another long sip of the drink, slurping down to the bottom, the flush heating him thoroughly, and it feels like it's humming through his veins. "It's interesting," he says, not really focused on the dancers and fire show as he is the feeling of warmth spreading through him, loosening him. Fischer finishes his drink and as a waitress passes them, orders another as an excuse that it's a second for him that he's going to give Gui when he's done.

Fischer chuckles devilishly to himself. He can feel the boy loosening and he wraps an arm around his chest from behind possessively. Leaning in, he exhales hot breath on Gui's neck. "It  _ is _ ...interesting," he replies.

There is something rhythmic about it, even still, the music and flashes of fire, and Gui might not be watching, but feeling it all out with half closed eyes as he finishes his drink and hands over the glass to another passing waitress. He's never had hard alcohol, but it’s pleasant so far.  Slowly, he's getting increasingly hotter, and doesn’t seem to want to push Fischer off, instead pressing back against him, head canted up to nose against his jaw. The otherwise dangerous boy has let down his walls, letting himself so all in his trust of Allan.

Fischer pulls aside a stray curl and kisses behind Gui's ear. "Want any more, gorgeous?" he offers. He can feel the warmth of the boy, loves the way he's leaning against him. He feels protective, and something else, dark and primal in the back of his mind, probably from the atmosphere of the place and his intense feelings for Gui. He’s already thinking of what he is going to do him when he gets him back at the hotel. Punishment.

"Yeah." It's addictive, this feeling, blurring all of Gui's good inhibitions are shot, and the waitress brings over the new ordered drink and he takes it, feeling heated and airy from the inside out. His skin crawls with warmth and goosebumps, senses heightened.

Fischer leads Gui over to a booth facing the show and slides in first, pulling Gui in so he can sit leaning against his chest.  He nuzzles the boy’s hair, inhaling his scent, nabbing a slice of pineapple from the rim of the glass. "Have you ever been to a place like this?"

The only bar or club that Gui has ever been to were the kind where his services were needed. He hardly took time to look at the crowds, the drinks, or anything else. He wore blinders when working, and right now he was hardly working. He leans back against Fischer, able to feel his heartbeat against his back where he's held. His free hand snakes up and around Allan's neck, keeping him close. "No. Not for pleasure."

Fischer smiled, kissing the back of Gui's neck. "I'm glad this is pleasurable, darling. I love being with you, anywhere."

Gui would be happy to drink anywhere with Allan so long as he was with him. He trusts the other man with his life enough to let himself drown in the drink. He takes a few more big sips of it. He looks up at Fischer, rosy cheeked, and kisses his jaw. "This what you do for fun?" Gui asks.

Fischer chuckles. "Usually drink beers. Play darts. Nothing so exotic but I wanted to...maybe impress you." Now it’s Fischer who’s blushing.

Gui downs the drink and sets it on the table and then turns, curling up to Allan so see his flush closer, grinning at him with big bright blue eyes that stand out amongst the curls and dark lashes and pinkened skin.  "Impress me? Why?"

Fischer's color deepens when Gui turns to look at him. He looks into those eyes that seem to envelope his soul, take him and clutch his heart right through the initials carved into his flesh. "Yes, min skat. You...I want to show you exciting new things. " He looks down, away from Gui's gaze, over at the drink on the table. "I don't want you to grow tired of me, bored," he confesses, quietly.

Gui's vision is hazy, but he's not drunk, just tipsy, and he crawls into Fischer's lap, grinning madly. "How could I grow bored with you?" He's horribly in love.

Fischer strokes his cheek, looking into his face like a lovestruck puppy. "I hope you never do, my beautiful Gui. My treasure," The waitress comes by to collect the glass and Fischer orders two shots of Malibu rum. He's not even buzzed, just completely smitten. "We'll do a shot and then we'll go back." He smiles darkly at Gui, a devilish glint in his eyes.

Gui leans and licks at Fischer's mouth and then inside, slowly, his hooded gaze is glazed over with a sheen of alcohol, feeling as he never has before. "Okay," he breathes out, nipping at Fischer's lips.

Fischer wants...needs...to get this shot and get him back to the hotel. The way he's sitting in his lap making this face at him and now, his kisses stir his blood like nothing else in the universe. The hot little flicks of Gui's tongue in his mouth, sweet with the cocktail, are far too tempting for Fischer. Not that he has much willpower when it comes to his love anyway.

The waitress brings the shots, smirking at the two of them. She makes a comment about them being a cute couple, taking Fischer's cash. Fischer holds up one shot glass and motions for Gui to take one. "You ever done a shot before, love? Just slam it back, drink it all at once. It feels warm going down."

Gui takes the other little glass and shoots it back in one gulp, making a face as it burns down his throat, his eyes watering and his skin growing darker with flushed pink. "Oh..."

Fischer shoots back his own and grins at Gui. "Nice? It's smooth, warm." He sits for a moment holding him, rubs his hand firmly down the front of Gui's chest to his abdomen, following the path the liquor would be taking. "Does it feel good, darling?" He leans in and licks the seam of Gui's mouth, gently biting his bottom lip.

Gui feels dizzy and heated from the inside out, Fischer's fingers and palm feel like hot coals raking the fire in his core. "Yes," he whispers hoarsely, breathing out heavily once against Fischer's mouth, and then kissed him passionately, deeply.

"I need to get you to the hotel now, Gui." Fischer says breathlessly, when he manages to pull away from his mouth. The older man runs his other hand up to the back of the boy’s head to tangle fingers in his curls and tugs hard. A little harder than he should in public. He pushes his hips forward to scoot Gui out of the booth. "Let's go, now."

The boy is writhing in Fischer's lap, and all but scrambles off of him as he's pushed from the booth. He takes Fischer's hand and walks out, in a hurry, too hot for so many reasons. He's staggering a little, having not exactly eaten enough to hold the amount he's drank so far, and he hardly weighs a thing. He wraps arms around Fischer as he walks backwards to the car, kissing him. When they get to the car Fischer backs Gui against the door, pushing his hips against the boys as he kisses him. He unlocks the passenger door and opens it. He's trying to maintain his control to get them back, and though he wants to tear him open right there, he wants to wait until they get back so he has no restrictions on what he can do to his angel.

"Put your seatbelt on, love," Fischer whispers a little raggedly as he closes the door and comes to the other side. Fischer gets in and looks at Gui with burning eyes before he starts the car.

The world spins a little, and Gui manages somehow to get his god damn seatbelt on, but all he can think about is touching Fischer, so he does, his hands wandering his thigh closest to him as they drive back. Fischer speeds on his way back, eyes alert. No one's on the road. His heart is hammering in his chest, he licks his lips and takes a swig of water from a bottle in the console. "Drink this, darling, you should drink it." He wants to make sure Gui doesn't get dehydrated. He remembers that Gui probably hasn't eaten enough today and curses to himself but he's got some leftovers in the mini fridge at the hotel they can eat later. Fischer desperately wants to touch Gui but keeps his hands on the wheel and drives. They're almost there.

Gui sips the water, but it starts to churn in his belly, so he sets it down again, swallowing spit instead. Soon their hotel is in view and once parked, he gets out, and shuts the door, head spinning a little, but he's able to walk. Fischer looks at him with concern. He gets the hotel open, takes him by the hand, leads him inside. "How do you feel, love?"

Gui is not used to it, but he's fine. Taking Fischer's hand, he drags him up the stairs quickly to their room and waits for the door to be opened before he mauls Fischer, all but climbing him against the wall before the door can even be closed.

Fischer wasn't expecting it, as unsteady as Gui looked, but he instantly responds to the assault, hands all over him, pulling at Gui's clothes. His mouth is on Gui's, licking hungrily at him, panting. "Have to..punish you, you know," he gasps.

"Punish me then," Gui says against Fischer's mouth, stripping himself down to as he throws his own shirt aside, and his jeans inch off his hips. He kicks off his shoes and kisses Fischer harder, biting and gnawing at his lips.

Fischer peels off his own shirt, slipping off the track pants, and kicking his shoes across the floor. He withdraws from Gui, pushing him backwards toward the bed. Opening a drawer on the bureau, he pulls out a leather belt, stalking towards Gui. "Hold out your wrists," he says in a low voice.

Gui licks his lips as he shimmies down his jeans and then kicks them off, hands out in front of him, presenting Fischer with his wrists. "Yes, sir."

The Dane’s amber eyes glint almost blood red staring into Gui, and he loops the leather belt around his wrists, cinching it up and tying it tightly, leaving length at the end to use like a lead. He tests it to make sure it's not loose enough that the boy can break free, and walks to the bed to sit down, leading Gui. He pats his thigh. "I want you to lay across my lap. Face down. I'm going to spank you. Do you know why, Gui?" He has a small hint of a smile but represses it as best he can.

Gui's blue eyes are bright and dark at the same time as he stands in front of Fischer for a moment and then does as asked, laying across his thighs, his already hard cock between them, ass in the air. "Because I've been bad all day, sir. Or, should I call you daddy?" Gui looks over his shoulder mischievously.

Fischer can't hide a deep blush that comes over his visage at Gui's words. He hums deep, sets his jaw as he admires the most exquisite backside he's ever seen; he rubs his large warm hands over a ripe, round ass cheek. "Hmmmm. 'Sir' will do for now, young man. That's right. You've been very bad all day. Teasing me. Tormenting me." He rubs the other cheek and then slaps twice. Not too hard at first. Just a warm up.

Gui likes to test his limits, but never pushes further once he knows them. His leans thighs tense with each little smack, biting his bottom lip between his teeth, toes curling into the carpet under him as he breathed out slowly. It's gentle and sensual to start, but he can almost taste what's coming. "Yes, sir."

Fischer feels his blood rise and aims for just beneath the plush underside of his ass. Where he'll feel it the next day. Harder smacks, four, six, eight in a row. Just bring a light pink blush to the skin. “That scene in the theater. Anyone could have seen us. Someone from the FBI, a colleague. Watching you writhing under me like that. You're a slutty boy." He brings down four more sharp slaps, harder this time. Pink blooms across the creamy flesh in the shape of Fischer’s hand.

Gui shrivels a little and then tenses, but it just makes the smack that much more harder, stinging every last nerve in his behind. He pants, arms out in front of him, his head between them, sweating as the heat from alcohol has taken over his system, possibly making this easier to endure, but he loves it. "Afraid to be seen with me, sir?"

Fischer leans down over the hot skin, licks over, kissing. Rubs both cheeks some more and then spanks harder still. "Never. Never ashamed. But I could get in trouble. And you're naughty for making me so...making me...putting me in that position..." Fischer spreads Gui's thighs apart a little wider, rubbing over his hole and under his balls pleasingly. He wants to mix pleasurable sensations with the painful ones for Gui, trying to gauge what he likes most.

A moan leaves Gui's chest as his sensitive pucker was rubbed, spread out near whorishly in ways he never thought he'd find himself. No one until Fischer had made him want to do this, made him want to be on his knees, or put over anyone's knees for that matter.

"Should I stop?" Fischer sucked his index finger into his mouth and rubbed the wet pad of his fingertip over his hole, leaning down over him  and grazing teeth along his backside, biting sharply over sensitive skin he'd been abusing. "But perhaps stopping altogether would be an overreaction. Mmm." Teeth snap down clamping on a soft mound of flesh.

Gui writhes and groans, pushing back into both sensations, his toes are pressed into the floor tightly, his hands straining, a wanton wriggle to his hips, trying to get friction anyway he can manage."Overreaction?"

Fischer lifts Gui's hips a bit to trap his hard cock between his thighs and presses them around him, rubbing circles around his hole as he does, He slaps his rump again. "Maybe I'm enjoying this so much maybe I want to punish you like this more," he teases. He spits a long strand of saliva on Gui's hot little hole and sinks his middle finger inside.

Gui groans as he's penetrated, wriggling his hips against Fischer's thighs, clenching his own. "Maybe I should be bad more often." Fischer pulls himself and Gui up onto the bed, and rolls Gui onto his back, straddling him. He lifts his arms above his head and lays over him to kiss him hungrily.

"Maybe you should," Fischer whispers between licks into his mouth. He starts undoing the knot of the belt around his wrists and releases his hands, only to slide up and trap the boy’s arms under his knees. He straddles Gui's chest, his cock pressing against his lips, and Fischer lifts his head gently and wraps the belt around his neck, leaving it just loose...for now. "But you were still very naughty, young Gui. What should we do about that?"

Most people would see this as threatening, but Gui's eyes go wide and dark, lust driven as he circles his tongue around Allan's dripping cock, eyes never leaving his own. "More punishment."

Fischer has one hand on the looped belt around Gui's neck, and one hand on his cock. He taps it against Gui's rosy, full lips, pressing the head inside. Fischer's jaw goes slack as he watches it disappear into the gorgeous hot mouth of his beautiful boy, and he exhales heavily. The larger man shifts his hips and rocks it in and out of Gui's mouth, slowly tightening the belt around his sinful, supple, long neck. Fischer wants to arouse his boy and wants to test what he likes; he knows he loves the blood and violence, but he’s testing his fear to see if he likes this or not. Maybe he doesn't, but he won't know unless he tries, and Fischer does indeed love it.

The boy has very little fears, very little anything, as death is nothing but another adventure. This is exciting, and he's putting all his faith in trust in Fischer, that he loves him and only wants to heighten it all. He wraps his lips around him, tongue lathing over the tip, sucking out pre come with a groan.

Fischer uses the belt to tug Gui closer, to pull his head up to his groin, releasing on the down stroke. He becomes increasingly rough with him as he gets closer to coming, riding his face and sliding his cock deeper down Gui's throat. He knows the boy is struggling for air and choking, but it's part of the thrill, and it's giving Fischer a perverse pleasure. Ultimately he won't hurt him, but he's enjoying watching his cock slam in and out from between Gui's swollen lips, cheeks flushed with effort, his panting and the wet noises he's making.

Gui hasn't the sense to say stop, and cut off oxygen only heightens his own pleasure as he runs his hands up Fischer's ass, slowly, taking him down sick wet sounds, tongue lathing deftly over the head of his cock and then down his length with a strangled sort of groan.

Fischer desperately wants to make it last and he holds back his orgasm, pulls out of Gui's mouth, relaxes his grip on the belt and unwinds it from around his neck. He descends Gui's body, releasing his arms. Red welts circle Gui's neck; Fischer kisses over them gently, reaches down to grip Gui's cock and begins to stroke him.

Breathing out heavily, catching his breath, Gui whines a little as his cock is stroked and touched, his hand reaching around Allan. Fischer uses his free hand to pull Gui's head back painfully hard by the root of his silken curls, bites and sucks at the belt marks circling Gui's long neck. He pumps the boy’s cock, sliding his hand tightly from root to tip, completely focused on his pleasure. Fischer moves from his neck down to his nipples, sinking sharp teeth into the sweet brown peak. The ragged edge of a canine pierces tender skin and a bead of precious blood drips onto his tongue. Fischer moans, licking it up, whispering curses as he grinds his own erection wetly against Gui's thigh.

Groans escape Gui's lips as Allan starts to care for him, pleasing him, but all the boy wants is to feel Allan inside him "Allan, fuck me..." he'll beg and plead, or at least make it sound like he is.

Fischer aches to be inside Gui, rolls off him, moves him onto his side and gets behind him, spooning him. He reaches for the bottle of lube on the nightstand, and kisses his neck and shoulders before squeezing some of the lubricant on his fingers and is for this. The older man slides inside with a grunt, throbbing and filling him in one push. "Ahhh, my Gui, my Gui, My Gui..." He moans, his face buried in Gui's curls, in his neck, he wraps his arms around him and starts fucking him with a needy rhythm. 

Gui's mouth drops open as he's fucked, slow and steady, holding on to Fischer's arms with one hand, the other grasps behind him at his hip, holding him there, able to feel his every movement. "God, Allan..." He presses back against Fischer's chest is slick with sweat, as is Gui's back, and they slide against each other, the sounds of their breathing and groans echoing off the walls of the room.

Fischer grips Gui's hip hard with one hand, the other wrapped around his chest, holding him against his body. Fischer thrusts, his shaft thick and full, making sure Gui can feel every inch. His hand slides up to cradle Gui's head and hold it up as he slides his tongue in his mouth, feeding from him ravenously. "I want to possess you completely," he pants out, and pulls his hand from Gui's slim hip to rake fingernails down through the thatch of dense pubic hair between his legs. The boy is rock hard, his balls full as Fischer gropes further and rolls them in his big rough hand. He pulls up, anchors around his cock, slides his thumb over the tip, rolling wetness down, and rocks his hand in time with his hips, faster.

Gui pants now, hitching his hips forward into the feel of Allan's palm, and then back again to feel him fill him over and over, biting at his lips and tongue, but mostly just breathing hard against his mouth as fire ignites through his veins and pools at his lower back.

Fischer tilts up, bucks harder as he feels the heat coiling and building. He sucks Gui's tongue, gnaws at his lower lip, claws at his neck, nails digging into the raised marks left by his leather belt. "Mit, mit, mit, mit..." he whispers raggedly, fucking Gui in sharp stabs of his hips. Fischer grips  Gui's cock, stroking fast and tight, slipping over the tip in slick strokes.

Gui pants against Fischer's mouth openly, bucking his hips in time with his own, and finally he feels his body clench to surrender, and he spills with gasps all over Fischer's hand and the sheets. "Fischer, Allan-!" 

Fischer drinks in the image of his angel's face, flushed and rosy, blue eyes wide, lips parted, and it sends him over the edge. Gui's body clenches, trembling and burning around Fischer and milks the come from Fischer's pulsing member. A choked sob rumbles from his throat. "Gui..." He says hoarsely, panting, trying to calm his racing heart. Turns his face to kiss him deeply. "Jeg elsker Dig, Min skat, My Gui, I love you."

Gui holds the back of Fischer's head with one hand and kissed him deeply as he eats the words right out of his mouth, rutting a little against him even now, just to feel the leftover friction. "My Allan. I love you so," he whispers.

Fischer pets his face, staring into his eyes. "You're my world, my everything. I'll never let anyone touch you. Nothing come between us. You know this, right?" He scatters kisses along his jaw and back to scarlet lips, suckling his bottom lip gently.

Gui wants to believe it, so he does. He hooks his arm around Fischer's neck and hold him close as they kiss, slowly, sweaty bodies slipping together. "I know." Fischer is still hard and remains inside Gui just lazily, gently rolling his hips in the sweet afterglow. He knows they will fall asleep soon and tugs the cover over them, nuzzling Gui tenderly. Gui sighs and snuggles back into Fischer, letting himself drift off in his lingering alcohol induced haze.

* * *

 

Danish Translations: 

Kanelsnegle: Cinnamon rolls 

Mor: Mother 

Far: Father

Mit: Mine

Jeg elsker Dig: I love you


	4. Chapter 4

Fischer stirs to rays of sunshine peeking through a slit in the blackout curtains on the window. Gui lays in his arms, warm with sleep.  _ I need to do a better job of making sure Gui eats enough today,  _ he thinks to himself _. _ One solid meal followed by popcorn, ice cream and rum isn't a great diet. His eyes wander to the small efficiency kitchen and he decides after they do some clothes shopping, he'll stop at a grocery store. Fischer used to cook sometimes for Mitte; since he's been living alone he hasn't bothered. Seems like too much effort to cook just for himself. But for Gui...for Gui he would. He feels utterly compelled to care for him. Not wanting to wake him, he lays next to him quietly in the stillness of morning, watching him sleep, tucked in close. 

Gui stirs only because Allan has, but he lays there snuggled up to his side, one thigh wrapped tight around his hips now, with a sigh, he blinks his eyes open. "You think too loud."

Fischer exhales a gasp when Gui's eyes open; the boy is breathtaking, and even after days, he’s still taken by surprise just how much his feelings have taken over him. He smiles at Gui, the corners of his own eyes crinkling up, and brushes his lips with his fingers, followed by a soft kiss. "Good Morning, my love," he says quietly.

Gui sighs out contently, much happier waking here with Allan than alone. Amazing that he'd never realized how much he might have needed someone before. "Mornin'."

Fischer ran his hands lightly over the bruises on Gui's neck; the red welts had turned a deep purple overnight. Seeing them made his heart swell with pride and love for his boy. "Does it hurt too much, min skat?" he asked, eyes flitting from the marks to Gui's big blue eyes.

"No," Gui says quietly, he hardly notices them, though his ass his sore, and it hurts to swallow a little, the pain is most welcomed as it is most any other sort of pain that is well earned and beautiful. "Should it?"

Fischer touches Gui like fine china. He is tender and adoring, in such contrast to their previous night's activities. "Maybe this morning we should get you a nice hot bubble bath. We'll take it together. Then we'll get some food and go shopping for clothes. Does that sound nice, gorgeous?"

Gui groans as he turns over and onto Allan, gazing down at him. "Sure. Where?" Fischer grazes his fingers up and down Gui's back.

"There's a men's clothing store downtown. They have everything from jeans to suits. Mmmm. I'd love to see you in a tailored suit..."

Gui hums, brushing loose curls off his forehead. "A suit?" The creator had tried that with him, and Gui simply found what he liked more, but for Allan…

"We can just try it on and see how it looks. You can buy anything you want, love. Besides most of the fun is trying them on," Fischer winks,nuzzles his neck. "I'll go draw you a bath. Stay here where it’s warm, I'll call you when it's ready..."

Gui has a good feeling he'll be trying on clothes just to have Fischer help him take them off. He grins and kisses his cheek softly. "Okaaay...." he says coyly.

Fischer starts the bath, testing to get the water nice and hot. He rummages under the sink and finds some shampoo; not quite bubble bath, but it will make bubbles and smell good. He dumps some in the tub and whisks it around with his hand. He's never really made a bubble bath many times, except for his son, but it's close enough. He knows Gui must be sore from all their activities and wants to soothe his body, make him feel good. When the tub has filled with what seems like almost too many bubbles, he laughs and goes to the bed to take Gui's hand. "Come on love...it's ready," He says with a mischievous grin.

Gui lets himself be taken out of the warm bed, naked as the day he was made, and follows Fischer into the bathroom and laughs at the big pile of bubbles in the tub. He's never had a bath, hell, he'd hardly ever showered much until Fischer came around. He gets in and moves forward, leaving room for Fischer behind him. Fischer climbs in behind him, chuckling, and bubbles spill to the floor. The water is very hot but feels good on their sore muscles. He lifts his knees and pulls Gui against his chest, kissing behind his ear, and scoops soapy shampoo water over the back of his head, massaging his scalp, neck, and shoulders. He rubs slow, deep circles down his long back, lighter pressure around the bruises.

He leans in, whispers in his ear. "How does that feel, min skat?"

"Wonderful," Gui says, aware showers were great together, but this has an altogether intimate feel that showers do not. It's softer and more subtle, but still sexy as hell. He leans into Fischer's back, stretching his long neck into Fischer's hands.

Fischer's hands move skillfully over Gui's body, working over muscles, smoothing them out, releasing tension. His chest rises and falls slowly against Gui's back, deep, even breaths as he caresses his flesh lovingly but firmly. He tangles his fingers in the boy's brown curls, pressing soft kisses down the side of his neck. Fischer runs his hands down Gui's arms to his hands, bringing one to his lips, brushing kisses over the inside of Gui's palm, down to his inner wrist, licking lightly over his pulse, and speaks in a deep voice that vibrates through his skin. "Good, beloved boy. I want to take care of you..."

Gui brushes long fingers against Allan's scruffy jaw, feeling the coarseness there, and slowly tipped his own head back to look at him with a grin on his face. "I could be very demanding, you know. Hard to take care of, hard to please."

"I have every confidence I can handle the job. And you, angel, are worth it. Be as demanding as you want," Fischer reaches down and squeezes a sore spot on Gui's backside where he'd spanked him particularly hard. "As demanding as you dare be, young man."

He growls with a little smile. "Demanding enough you'll punish me later for it?" Gui asks, a wicked grin over his shoulder at Allan, followed by a groan at the spot that's more than abused, maybe even a little bruised, but he hopes it is.

Fischer moves his hand up to Gui's neck pulls his jaw towards his lips, whispering against them, "If you've earned it, I will." He begins soaping up his own body, running hands between his legs and beneath Gui's ass, spreading open his thighs and massaging soapy circles.

Gui rolls his hips into the touches, head canted back to kiss Fischer on the mouth, tongue and lips searching and needing. "I'll always earn it."

Fischer moans softly as Gui's tongue slides into his mouth. One hand exploring along the seam of thigh and groin, fingers dancing over sensitive scrotum, lifting them and rolling them gently as his teeth clash against Gui's. It's slow and sensual. Fischer wants to give his body a rest, but there are other things they can do. His own erection stiffens, pressing against the small of Gui's back.

The touch alone is enough make Gui writhe a little in Allan's arms, slow and sensuous, his ass grinding down and back against the length of Allan's filling cock. Gui groans into his mouth, tongue lashing along the lines of the other wet muscle and strong white teeth, open mouthed and longing. Fischer's control dissolved under the plush soft swell of Gui's ass. He hadn't planned on fucking him; he wanted to give him a break, let him recover but then, that inviting press against his cock. With a groan he's sliding inside, and Gui is sitting back into him in his lap.

Fischer sucks Gui's tongue. His arms are around Gui's waist completely, touching, stroking, coaxing his cock and balls under the copious, steamy bubbles. "What you do to me, Gui..." he whispers, rocking his hips slowly.

Gui flushes with pinked lust as Allan slips right inside, and starts to fuck him slowly, carefully. The boy presses down, groaning with every little move, each part of him aching to be touch, aching from all the wanton abuse he's taken over the last few days, and he loves it. "I'll do it to you forever..."

Fischer wants to touch him everywhere all at once. His hands roam Gui's body, rubbing his pectorals, circling the pad of his forefinger over peaked nipples before pinching tightly. Across his smooth chest, over his heart, tracing his initials over his heart with the tips of fingernails. Down the sides of long lean torso, he presses thumbs over ribs and hips and strong, muscular thighs covered in downy hair. He worships Gui with his entire being, languidly undulating beneath him. "Forever, mine. My beauty. No one else’s."

Gui presses and ruts back against Allan as his words penetrate him sharper than anything his dick could ever do. All Gui has wanted is to be had, loved, and held, never knowing anyone could want that from him. "Allan," he pants, using the sides of the tub with his hands to make leverage as he fucks himself on his boyfriend.

Fischer whispers sweet words against his lips and rolls into Gui, holding him close. "Ahhh... Gui...there's no one else I ever want again...min elskede, allerkæreste Gui, ahhh, mmmm..."

Grinding back on Allan, Gui cants his head just so to bite at his lips again, tasting every word he speaks as it falls off his tongue, heat coiling hot in his belly, warmer than the water around him, body tensing around Allan. The desperate ache in Fischer's chest is greater than that in his body. He's never felt so much emotion, so much all consuming, desperate, incendiary love, craving, need for anyone like this in his life. Never fathomed anything could be this intense. He wants to open Gui completely and climb inside him, consume him and be consumed by him, if it could be done and they could both survive it, he would.

Hot water sloshes gently around them at first, sloshing faster as Fisher's hips starts to jerk. He's losing control of his body. When he's deep inside Gui, everything is blinding, electric pleasure, an intense throb that reverberates to his core. He lathes his tongue over Gui's licking and biting at teeth, lips, anything he can reach as his breathing gets more ragged and his cock pumps faster in and out of the boy's slick heat. Gui moves to turn around, and is facing Allan as he starts to ride him, faster and faster, water spilling around them as he twists the other man's nipples, hips slapping against hips, fire burning up his spine.

Fischer takes it all in: Sharp canines flashing white, promising the bites he wants more than anything. Dewy eyelashes, lowered seductively over eyes that own his soul. This is his favorite way to fuck his beloved Gui, he thinks to himself. Face to face. Fischer looks up at Gui's face, slack jawed and awe struck as he rides him, and he can barely hold on. Bright pink skin flushed like the petals of a rose across the tops of his cheeks, his bottom lip glistening wet, mouth open and reaching can watch him, look into those eyes and see the moment he comes apart because of...him. Fischer holds him around his waist with one hand, firmly stroking his cock with the other.

Wet and glistening, water pouring out the side of the tub with every last thump of knees against the tub and hips connecting, Gui starts to come apart, hot little panted breaths filling the air of the moist bathroom. Allan's name falls from his lips as he breaks apart, split in near half by Fischer's cock, and Gui is sure he will never, ever get tired of fucking himself on it. He overflows, spilling hot come all over Fischer's hand and onto his stomach as enough water has spilled out to leave them less than half covered.

Fischer pulls Gui to his mouth as he comes, devouring his moans, and shoots inside him. The orgasm Gui pulls out of him seems to last forever, and he holds tight through the aftershocks, his muscles twitching and shaking. When he finally stills he holds Gui's face in both hands and smiles against his lips, kissing. "Magnificent," he says, reaching to turn the water on and release the plug so they can rinse off under the warm shower.

Gui stands, and rinses, holding Fischer close, never letting go for a second, honestly a little afraid that when he ever does let him out of his sight, he might disappear altogether. "I want to do that with you forever..."

Fischer laughs a bit. "I do too, as long as my body holds out." He lets the hot water run over his broad, muscular shoulders, turns around and lightly swats Gui's behind. "And yours," he winks and kisses his nose.

“Worry more about yours than mine," Gui says, with a teasing grin on his face, and squeezes Allan's ass with both hands.

Fischer loves Gui's hands on him and hums deep. He looks in the mirror and pulls his razor and shave cream out. "I'd better shave, I’m starting to look a little scruffy. Oh, I have some clothes you can wear today too...some track pants, might -be long but you can pull them up, and tee shirts. Look in my drawers, love. Clean socks too."

Gui raises his brow and then goes to look. The pants are huge, but he puts them on anyway, a t-shirt too. It felt weird, he didn't have underwear either, so he felt like he was just... hanging.

"Are you sure you can just... get me things?" Gui's a little worried, maybe he ought to get a few jobs done to pay Allan back. 

Fischer holds his chin taut, running the blade beneath and then rinsing it out under hot water.  "Of course, darling. We'll get you some underwear, clothes, anything you need. I want to, let me..." He worries Gui will think he's kept, or owes him something.

Fischer still has shaving cream on his face, but stops to go talk to him face to face before finishing. "You don't owe me anything. I just want to do it. There are no strings attached to me buying you clothes or food or anything, Gui. There are no strings attached to my love, nor this," he puts his hand on Gui's chest. "Yes?"

Gui stands there with his hands in his pockets, listening to Allan talk, not sure he understands exactly, but he nods his head. He's been kept before, months ago, and got out of that one quick. Allan is different. "Yes."

"Good," Fischer says simply. He isn't sure Gui understood, but Fischer is more about actions than words anyway. He walks, still naked, back into the bathroom to finish shaving. He opens the bathroom window and lights up a smoke while he finishes.

Gui picks through his old clothes for his things and then watches Fischer from the doorway. "You shouldn't do that..."

Fischer closes one eye to get the last bit and looks over at Gui. He takes another drag and tosses it in the loo. "You want me to quit? What are you going to do about my oral fixation?" He grins, wiping his face off with a towel and sauntering in the bedroom towards the closet. He picks out a couple things and tosses them behind him on the bed.

"I'll push you down and fuck your mouth," Gui says, matter of fact, and smiles as he watches Fischer's ass as he moves around the hotel room. "Smoking is terrible for you. You could die."

"I could walk out the door and get hit by a bus. Or shot." Fischer quips. "But I'll take your offer. And I'll try. For you. But...I may be an asshole, fair warning." He pulls on a pair of boxer briefs and dark jeans, and a tee shirt. "OK, lets go, babe. It's 10 already. We'll get a sub and then hit the store." Holds the door open for Gui, stopping him for a long slow kiss before letting him go.

Gui glowers at Allan and stand his hand anyway, boots on and a jacket, he looks ridiculous. "Hit by a bus?" He furrows his brows. "Sub?"

Fischer smiles, completely charmed by Gui's sweet innocence. "A bus is a big car that takes a bunch of people places. Sub is what Americans call a big huge sandwich large enough to share, tons of meat and cheese and lettuce tomato anything you want on it. What do you usually eat, Gui? What are your favorite foods?" Fischer starts the car.

Gui buckles in and shrugs his slim shoulders, still confused. "I... eat whatever is available." He's told Allan before, he eats shit off the street, in garbage, but he doesn't want to mention that again.

"We'll just try different things then and see what you like." Fischer suggests. "After shopping I thought we'll get some groceries so I can make you some food at the hotel. Be good to have some things around so we can eat there sometimes too...stay in. Dinner in bed maybe." He smiles at him with a wolfish grin.

"Dinner in bed? Like breakfast in bed?" Not that Gui has had either one, but he's down to try it out, honestly. He smiles back, and grips Fischer's thigh tightly. "I'm not costing you a lot of money am I?"

"Don't worry about money, love," Fischer smiled. "I have a good job. I'm single. Mitte's married, takes care of the kid, I send her a little but they are fine so I don't have to give much. I can take care of you darling. Please don't concern yourself." At a stop light, Fischer leans across the console, takes Gui's chin and kisses his lips.

Gui already has a good mind to not be compared to Allan's wife or kid, so he's thinking of all the ways to get money while he can. Allan works tomorrow, he can figure it out then. "Sure," he says, and kisses Allan back slowly, fingers curled against his leg.

Fischer drives up the next block and points to the sub shop ahead. He parallel parks the Nissan and gets out, opening the door for Gui. Jogging around to the other side, the Dane opens the door for Gui and feeds some coins into a meter.

Walking into the deli, the smell of fresh baked bread greets them. He looks over the menu scrawled on a blackboard in front of the glass counter and turns to Gui. "I've been here a couple times. Got a philly cheese steak, that was pretty good. Want to try that, darling?" He weaves his fingers in Gui's, squeezing.

"What's a cheese steak?" Gui asks, quietly, watching mostly the people around him look at them, and snarls a glare toward one woman with low growl. "What you're having, I don't know what any of this is."

Fischer glanced at Gui, noticing his hackles up. He releases the boy’s hand and places it in the small of his back, slips around his waist. "We'll just try it and see, love." He steers him gently towards the counter and addresses an old portly bald man in an apron. "One 12 inch number 5, everything on it. On sourdough. To go," he adds. Fischer palms two big bottles of water from the ice chest next to the counter. "We'll eat in the car, love," he says, leaning into Gui's curls a little.

Being noticed isn't something Gui is used to. He's used to fading into the background most of the time, unless he wanted to be noticed, such as when he met Fischer. Gui had let himself be seen because he wanted to be. He snuggles into Fischer's side. "What's it taste like?"

Fischer eyes the woman looking at them and narrows his gaze, kisses Gui's temple. "It's thin slices of beef, smothered in cheese, onions, peppers, mushrooms."

That didn't really sound terrible, honestly. "Sounds okay," Gui says and wraps both arms around Fischer, nuzzling him. Fischer pulled some bills out of his pocket to pay the man and waited for him to finish making the sandwich. He was, being a cop, very aware of every person in the place, aware of eyes on them, and didn't care, be they jealous or otherwise.He loved the way Gui wrapped around him, molded against him. He adored everything about his boy. The man finished the sandwich and gave him his change, and Fischer grabbed it and steered Gui back to the door, casting a few looks around. They got to the car, and he unlocked the passenger door commenting, "They're just jealous because I'm the luckiest bastard in there,"

"Is that what that was?" Gui asked, getting more of a feeling that some people might have thought Gui too young for Allan, and made their own assumptions. He got into the car and buckled back in, the smell of the sandwich was making his mouth water.

Fischer laid some napkins out in the center console and unwrapped the sandwich, tearing the wrapper and handing Gui half. "Here. You'll want a napkin on your lap, it gets messy," he said. He took a big bite himself and hummed. "Still hot, but delicious.”.

Gui took his half and a napkin and started to eat, quickly, starved, and got half way through before he took a breath, and smiled, messy faced, at Allan. "It's really good," he said through a mouthful.

Fischer blushes a little at the contact, and goes to take a swig of water. "I was hungrier than I thought too. You really took it out of me, min skat," He chuckles.

"I'll continue to do so, too," Gui says, a devilish grin on his face as he stuffs the rest of his sandwich into his mouth, sighing out heavily, and then chugged his water. "Mm." Fischer groans a little as he shoves another mouthful of meat in. "MMmghhmmghfd...” the older man mumbles around the food, enjoying it fully, and winks at Gui.

Gui laughs at Allan and then kisses the cheese sauce off his lips.

Fischer lets him; it's adorable and sweet...He wipes his face and finishes his water, then leans over to kiss Gui again. "Mmmm, perfect. Did you like it? I'm stuffed." Fischer cleans up the mess in his lap and puts it in the take-out bag, starting the car and pulling back out into the busy street.

"Yes." Gui loved it actually, more than he should have, he's sure, but he was starved. "I wish I had more of it for later."

That made Fischer grin widely, and reached over to rub his thigh...lean and muscular but swimming in Fischer's baggy sweatpants. "We'll get you more. We can get another on the way back to the hotel, gorgeous. Anything my darling wants."

Gui beams, he's never really been so well taken care, and rubs his hand over Fischer's in thanks. He really does need clothes first, though. "I'd like that, or maybe, just something to make our own with?" 

"Yeah, we can get the stuff to make it at the store, that's a good idea, love." Fischer drives for a while, going a bit faster than he should. He’s eager to see his angel dressed up...and undressed. He sneaks a sly smile at Gui as he thinks about it.  

Soon, he pulls up to the clothing store. He gets out and gets the door for Gui, smiling. He's a little excited to start trying clothes on him... "Ready to pick out some clothes darling?"

Gui shrugs slim shoulders under a too large t shirt, and walks in with Fischer, already feeling out of place. "Yeah..."

The employees here are pretty low key, not up in your face, which is why Fischer likes this store. He takes Gui's hand and steers him to some young men's style jeans, low waisted, and tighter fitting. "You know what size you are? Probably, thirty, thirty-two?" Fischer slides his hands around Gui's waist playfully.

"I don't know.... you left my jeans back at the hotel," Gui said, though his jeans hardly ever fit to begin with, "Maybe?"

Fischer has a wicked twinkle in his eyes. "We'll try a few sizes and see what fits." He wanders over to a rack of shirts. Some white ones, pulls one out and holds it against Gui. He gasps. "Oh min skat, you look so good in white...black too. And...blue...for your eyes. Like anything?" Fischer doesn't want to be pushy and is just picking things out, and might have ulterior motives to just want to get Gui into a dressing room. But, he honestly does want to get Gui nice new clothes too. He grabs a couple packages of underwear as well. He can put a pair on and pay for them on the way out.

There isn't a lot Gui thanks he needs, but another set of clothes would be useful. He shrugs his shoulder. "You said something about a suit?" He looks around.

"Yes I did, didn't I?" Fischer's eyes comb the store for the suits, carrying the armload of clothes. He spots them against the back wall near the dressing rooms, and motions to Gui to follow him. Fischer grumbles about 'old men suits' and then find some that are more tailored. There one in dark grey, but one particularly catches his eye: a deep azure cashmere, European looking, striking. Fischer gasps before he even sees it on Gui, knowing it is going to transform him.

He grabs it and walks Gui to the dressing rooms with the clothes. An older man, about sixty, comes out of one and leaves the door ajar, and Fischer sticks a long leg out to catch it open, casting an eye over his shoulder to see if any employees are looking. None are, so he grins and motions Gui inside. "Come on, we'll try these on."

Gui follows, completely lost in what is happening, but he trusts Fischer. He slips in with him and closes it. He undresses quickly and looks at the clothes. "What first?" 

Fischer's eyes drift over Gui, but he tries to focus. "The jeans. We'll save the suit for last." he says, catching Gui's reflection in the mirror as he hangs things up and hands a pair of underwear and jeans to Gui, licking his lips to moisten his suddenly very parched mouth.

Gui puts the clean underwear on, they fit of course, why wouldn't they. He then slips on the jeans that fit better than any other pair of jeans he's gone through, fitting through the thigh and slim through his calves.

Fischer stared, mouth open a little. "Those fit...very well. Perfectly. Turn around," He asked, crossing his arms, leaning against the wall.

Gui turns, looking behind his shoulder to see what Fischer is staring at, obviously it’s his ass, which is pertly lifted by the jeans. "Good?"

Fischer nods, swallows hard. His cheeks color like a schoolboy looking at something naughty. "Yeah those are a  _ yes. _ Hmmm. Try this too." He hands him a white shirt, soft fabric that will feel nice against his skin.

Gui hums as he takes the shirt and does it up, watching his own fingers to be sure he gets them in the right holes. "Yes?"

Fischer catches himself swooning and clears his throat, moving closer to straighten the collar for him. "That looks amazing. Do you like it? Let's try more on...these black jeans, this black shirt..." Fischer's already helping him out of the other jeans, pushing them over his ass and pulling them down his legs. To be helpful, of course.

Gui smiles as Fischer helps him out of the jeans and then into new ones. "You're enjoying this aren't you?" he asks, big blue eyes bright behind flops of clean curls.

Fischer smiles, showing teeth. "Maybe I am enjoying it. You look good in everything. And nothing." He helps Gui tug the jeans up, and reaches around him to button up the shirt from behind.

"Why am I getting clothes if I am to be naked around you always?" Gui asks, his grin bright in the mirror, looking back at Fischer.

Fischer can't resist nuzzling his nose in the boy’s soft curls before he steps back to look at Gui in the second outfit. "Practical purposes. We'll want to go out together, run errands, I want to take you to movies. Dinner. You need more than one set of clothes, gorgeous. We'll get you some street clothes, see if you like a suit, some comfortable sport clothes, if you want to play some football or run or something. These are just what everyone has. It's not extraordinary. And at home with me," He pulls Gui into his arms and whispers more commandingly, "You will always be naked."

Gui grins wickedly at the last bit. He doesn't care for clothes, or what they cover, just that he has them, but Allan seems to really enjoy him in these, so he'll play along. "I'll need work clothes..."

Fischer looks at the stuff he brought in. "What's appropriate for work for you? A suit? Something you can move in?"

"Something I can get messy," Gui says with a little grin, knowingly glancing in the mirror at Fischer behind him.

Fischer grins and hands him the suit. "Try this on I'll be right back." He slips out of the room to get some more clothes. Returning a few moments later with another armload of clothes, he’s brought some cargo pants and a few fitted tee shirts. Gui goes to protest, he doesn't want to be left alone, but when Fischer comes back, he looks more so relieved. He's got the suit on, it is one thing he knows how to put on as the Creator wore them all the time, he's just never worn it himself. Fischer opened the door and quickly closed it. He sagged against the door a little, taking in Gui from head to toe. His mouth hung open. "Oh...min skat..." he managed, lost for words.

"It's not too weird?" Gui asks, fixing the long sleeves a little, though they'd need to be brought in, he was sure he could do that himself.

Fischer set the clothes down, and quickly crowded Gui against the mirror, cups his face in his hands and kisses him deeply, searching his mouth with a strong tongue. Finally pulling away, he exhaled, "You...are a vision...gorgeous."

Gui grins as Allan finally takes what he so clearly wants seeing him like this. He pulls him close so he can't move away. "Yeah?" he's being coy, wants Allan to never stop wanting him. Fischer ran this thumb along Gui's lower lip, damp from his kiss.

"Yeah, It's perfect. You're...killing me. Here...you better try some more things on, before I take you apart in here," Fischer says a bit shakily, and manages to pull himself away to grab another pair of cargo pants. He looked back at Gui, eyes dropping down his body, and and couldn't stop his hands from undoing the fly of the silky soft dark blue dress slacks. "God this suit makes your eyes look..." he couldn't finish, lifting his gaze up to Gui's helplessly.

A smile tugs at Gui's lips as he watches the way Fischer struggles helplessly. He undoes the jacket and the shirt slowly and puts them on the hanger again, and then out of the suit. "Maybe the suit is just for us?"

"Maybe so," Fischer swallows, and hangs up the suit while Gui tries on the next pair of pants and shirt. Fischer rapidly considers just grabbing everything and going, but leans against the wall, wiping his hand over his face. "You think you can, uh, get around in these? Machine washable, dark," he winks and grins.

Gui looks at himself in the pants, they aren't great, but they are comfortable, easy to wear, easy to wash, and dark. He grins at Fischer with a cant of his head, dark curls in his eyes. "I think so..."

Fischer pulls one of the long sleeved tee shirts out. Gui isn't wearing a shirt yet, just the pants, and Fischer presses down his erection through his own jeans. He runs the flat of his palm up from Gui's belly to his chest and the back of his head, handing him the tee shirt. "Put this on. And...and the jeans, put them back on. You can wear all this out of the store. We should look for a jacket for you on the way out, a scarf, a couple of ties, and then go. I saw a nice black leather one, you can try on out there." Fischer walks backwards, bumping into the back of the dressing room wall.

Gui pulls the jeans on and then the shirt, and then tugs the tags off and hands them to Allan. He slips his boots on and gathers the rest of the clothes that fit. "Leather jacket?"

Fischer opens the door to the room and walks him out to the racks of coats. He pulls out one he'd spotted earlier. "Running around at night you'll want it. I like leather, it's just more durable and plus...here let me take the clothes. Try it on."

Gui hands the clothes over and then takes the jacket and tries it on, a nice fit. "How's it look?" He gives Fischer a sly grin, able to tell just by the look on his face it looks just fine.

Fischer licks his lips, staring at Gui lasciviously. The tops of his cheekbones are ruddy and flushed, eyes slightly glazed staring at the gorgeous boy. He holds the pile of clothes at waist level and finally remembers to breathe. "Yeah, We're getting that, it's...really sexy on you. Ahhh with those jeans too." The jacket came just to his waist so when he turned around, the round curve of his ass in the close fitted denim was accentuated even more with the leather that came in tight at the small of his back.

Fischer is anxious to get out of the store, and manages to get some blood to his legs to walk to the register. Glad the counter is opaque and not glass, he lifts the clothes to the counter and pulls his wallet out of his back pocket. Gui takes the tag off the jacket too and puts in the pile of things they are buying. He leans in against Allan as he pays and everything is bagged up. He feels little weird letting Allan do that, they really barely know each other, and Gui hopes he isn't coming off as the weird younger boyfriend with his sugar daddy.

"Thank you, Allan," Gui whispers once bags are in his hands and they are walking to the car.

Fischer tucks his hand around Gui's waist and pops open the trunk, tossing the bags inside. He closes it and leans Gui against the back of the car for a quick kiss; any chance to touch him.

"You're welcome, love." He runs his hand down the front of Gui's chest, stopping at the belt loops. The new jeans are just dangerously low slung on narrow hips, and Fischer loves them.  The Dane grins down at him. "So shall we get some groceries, maybe some philly cheese steak ingredients and go back to the hotel? I work tomorrow so I need some extra time tonight with you to get me through the day."

Gui grins at the way Fischer is eyeing him up, and nods slowly. "Anything you want, Allan," he says in a low voice, nothing innocent about him and his boyish charms. He gets into the car. "You know how to make the sandwiches?"

Fischer puts his arm around the passenger seat to look behind him and back out of the parking space. "It's simple ingredients, yes. I can have the butcher slice the meat for us nice and thin. Then it's just cooking it and putting the stuff together. And we can have it anytime." He put the car in drive and cast a lingering look at Gui. "I'm so glad you're here, you know that? You make me very happy, min skat."

"You don't feel as though you're having to take care of me?" Gui asks, chewing the inside of his lip a little, afraid he might just overstay his welcome at some point, as he's so attached already.

The vulnerable, innocent way Gui looked, like a lost boy younger than his years, and far more innocent than Fischer knew he was, made his heart pound his his chest so hard he rubbed his hand over his heart in a vain effort to quiet it. He was torn between wanting to reassure him that he was independent, could come and go as he pleased, and wanting to keep him all for himself, chain him the hotel room so no one else could touch or see him, not his treasure. Rationally he knew the latter was not even an option, but that's how incendiary the passion in Fischer's soul felt for Gui. He paused to carefully consider his words before speaking.

"In romantic relationships, people show each other love in different ways by taking care of each other. You can take care of me in whatever ways you can, I take care of you in ways I can, because we love each other. And, I don't mean only sex," He cast a sly glance at Gui. "Companionship, friendship, intimacy, and yes sex too...all of these things add up to what we give each other without limit or obligation. I certainly don't want you to have sex with me ever because you feel you owe me anything, I want it to be because you...you want me." His voice wavered as he said the last part. He still finds it hard to believe anyone as young and beautiful as Gui could want him. Fischer knew he wasn't hard on the eyes, women seemed to like him. But Gui...the earth was hardly fit to bear his beauty.

"Do I take care of you?" Gui asks carefully. They haven't been together long, and he's not really sure how to take care of someone, or if Fischer even needs it. He doesn't really understand a lot of that, not wise to the world in ways Fischer is, and in a lot of ways he's only a child in his mindset, but old in soul, old enough to know the differences in a lot of things. "I always want you,"the boy adds. Fischer makes him feel like everything he does matters, and he's attracted to every piece of him, which makes him question a lot, but it feels right.

Fischer pulls up to the grocery store and parks, shutting the car off. He turns and looks into Gui's eyes. "Love, yes you take care of me. If.. oh gorgeous, if we hadn't carved each others' initials into our chests I'd be concerned I would scare you away but...I think you feel the same way I do. I know it's new with us but, you take care of me like no one in my life has." He picks up Gui's hand, paler with long slender fingers in Fischer rougher, darker hand, and brushes his lips tenderly against the skin of his knuckles. "And hearing you say you want me...no one's ever said that to me before. No one."

"No one?" Gui asks quietly, gazing over at Fischer, his eyes on his face, his hands, everything he does to him, he's watching, reading him. Fischer means it all, and it scares Gui in a good way, because he wants Fischer to mean it, and he wants to live forever with him.

Fischer strokes Gui's cheek, looking into his eyes, smitten. "No one. I never realized I wanted anyone to, not the way you do. I've never felt anything like what I feel for you, Gui, for anyone else. I want you to know that. This is new for me...I've loved people, yes, but not like this. You consume me, and make me want to possess you completely."

He is stirred from his reverie by a car that parked next to them, a couple getting out and noisily talking opening and closing car doors. He looked down, blushing and embarrassed. "I must sound like a fucking idiot. Let's ahh, let’s just get some food, darling," he sighed.

Gui doesn't think he sounds like an idiot at all. He squeezes Allan's hand and then gets out and hugs him around his waist tightly. "I want everything with you. Only you."

Fischer kisses his temple and leads him into the store. They start with produce and Fischer picks some fresh fruit as well as peppers and onions for the sandwiches, some avocado, lemon, tomato, other vegetables to cook with for the week. They move to the deli, and Fischer asks the butcher for the steak, sliced thin as promised, and gets some other meats. Picks up a loaf of bread, various other food, and for Gui, basic toiletries like toothbrush and his own razors, deodorant.

Leaning on the shopping cart, Fischer smiles at Gui. "Can you think of anything else you want, love?"

Gui isn't sure he needs much else , Fischer seems to have gotten it all, and then some. He shakes his head as they get into line, sure that Fischer has out done himself anyway. "I think this is good."

Fischer unloads everything onto the conveyor belt and pays the cashier.  _ It's so domestic, _ Fischer thinks as he looks over at Gui. He's never enjoyed grocery shopping, something so mundane, but it's a pleasure with the gorgeous boy. Gui simply stands there in his leather jacket and perfectly fitted jeans, staring back at him through wide blue eyes. The way he looks at Fischer, like he's something magnificent, fills his chest and belly with warmth. He's dreading having to be apart from him tomorrow, even if it is only for eight or ten hours. "Yes I need bags," he tells the boy at the end of the line, who begins bagging their groceries.

They finish and he walks the shopping cart back to the car, looking over at Gui. "You hungry yet, gorgeous?"

Gui shakes his head. "Not yet." He helps put everything into the car and pushes the cart back to the front and then hops in."You work all week, right?"

Fischer sits in the driver’s seat, swinging long legs inside, and starts the engine. "Yes," he says sadly. "But it's four ten-hour days, so I'll be off Friday to Sunday," he adds, trying to be optimistic, though his heart hurts thinking about it. Of course, it will only make getting back to the hotel every evening better, but he still doesn't want to leave Gui even for that long.

"I'll find something to do," Gui says, not sure how he'll distract himself, but he'll figure something out. He had before Fischer and he can again, right?

Fischer laughs dryly. "I'm sure you will, clever boy. And I'm sure you'll take care of yourself. But you'll call me if you need me, right?" He glances at him as he drives.

Gui nods his head slowly, smirking over at Fischer. "I will." Oh he definitely will call if he needs something, or anything.

They pulled into the hotel lot, and Fischer opens the trunk and begins unloading bags, both clothes and food, carrying them inside. While Gui helped, he put the perishables away in the mini fridge and freezer.

Gui hangs his stuff in the closet there, helps Fischer with the groceries, and then flops on the bed.

Fischer finishes putting away everything and walks over to the bed, handing Gui a beer he'd pulled out of the fridge. He opens his, and takes a long swig. Walks back to the bureau, across from the bed, and leans against it, looking at Gui.

"I bet you wouldn't guess, but I used to be a dancer. Ballet, some theater." Fischer looks down, smiling, a little shyly at first, like he's trying to get up the nerve to say something. "I was good at it. I enjoyed it. Would you...ah. Would you like to see me dance Gui? Maybe something, hmmm. Like...ahhh...strip?" he asks coyly. A glint of fangs flash as he smiles, and a dark look in his eyes appear for a brief second.

The boy leans up on one elbows, sipping his beer slowly as he considers Fischer, eyeing him as he licks a drop from his lips. "You strip before?"

Fischer shakes his head slowly from side to side. He pulls his phone from his pocket and puts it on the table next to a small egg shaped wireless speaker. "No. But, for you, I would. If you wanted."

"I want," Gui says, lazily, as he watched Allan get ready, and he's excited to see what his boyfriend can do. Dancing was something Gui'd seen a lot of out on the streets, passing some of the bars and 'strip clubs'.

Fischer nods, expressionless. A bluesy guitar lick fills the small room. He turns around, facing away from Gui, takes off his leather jacket, walking around the room. When the beat drops, he turns on his heel and faces him, chin raised, chiseled jawline and sharp cheekbones etched with a brazen confidence. He begins opening his shirt, one button at a time. Thick, dark chest hair peppered with silver covers his sinewy chest.

The older man’s hips sway gracefully to the beat and he tilts his head, never losing eye contact with Gui. He undoes his cuffs and shrugs the shirt off broad shoulders, dropping it to the floor. As the song continues, his eyes rove over Gui lustfully, and he rolls his hips, unbuckling his belt and wrapping his large hand around the leather, pulling it through the loops slowly. Fischer tugs it free, and doubles it in his hands, snapping it hard, his eyes burning into Gui's. He lets it fall, and walks around to the other side of the bed, thumbing open the fly of his jeans.

Fischer is already hard; his cock snakes fat down the front and strains against the denim. He rubs his hand over it, gripping firmly, eyes blood red, burning into Gui's. He raises his eyebrows and smirks at him teasingly. Fischer opens his fly, pulls it down, leaves it open. Beneath, dark blue briefs are visible. Turning around, he shoves his hands in his pockets, forcing the fabric tight around his buttocks. Fischer might not have a bubble butt like Gui, but he knows he has a great ass.

He arches like a cat and flexes his back muscles, swiveling back towards Gui and tightening his biceps. Still facing away from Gui, he looks over his shoulder and tugs the jeans down, in a wide stance so just as they pass the round of his ass cheeks; he stops and does another stretch, accentuating their curve. Bronzed skin moves over muscle beneath with every movement, sensual slow and suggestive. He tugs the jeans down his legs finally, his long lean body gracefully bending to pull them free.

Fischer struts the circumference of the room, thumbs hooked in briefs. He stops at the bureau and stalks towards the bed like a lion, shadows of the setting sun glimmering over the planes and dips of his long, lean body, the V of his hips, the thick cock pressing obscenely against his dark blue underwear. He climbs up on the bed, on all fours, towards Gui.

Gui watches with awestruck blue eyes, never once blinking as his gaze flits the room with Fischer, watching every move he makes, eyes desperately on every ounce of flesh that gets uncovered, and especially on the bit of the flesh that's not . The boy has lost his jacket and his jeans are done, touching himself to the very movements of his boyfriend as he seduces him. Gui is ever thankful Allan is his and no one else can see this ever.

Palming himself, Gui watches Fischer get closer, licking his lips. "Fuck, you are so hot."

Fischer crawls up over on top of Gui, straddling him. He dips close over his lips but doesn't make contact, instead moves to his ear and whispers, his voice husky. "Like what you see?"

Gui continues to rub himself through his underwear, watching Fischer as he gets close and yet not close enough. His breath shakes a little, jaw shifting just so, but he controls himself. "Yes. Every part."

Fischer tugs at Gui's jeans to pull them off all the way, pulls off his shirt. "You're overdressed for what I'm about to do to you, young man." He pulls off his own briefs, his cock slapping against his belly, tosses the garments to the floor and lays on top of Gui.

Gui let's Fischer undress him down to just his underwear, painfully hard just watching him, and now with him on top of him, Gui just wants to rut up into him, and fuck him senseless. "What are you going to do?"

Fischer slides his hands under the waistband of Gui's underwear, pulling them down his smooth thighs and off. He rubs the rosy head of Gui's leaking cock, thumbing a bead of precum off and bringing it to his lips, sucking it off the tip of his thumb. "I'm going to fuck your brains out. Is that what you want, gorgeous?"

"Yes," Gui says, without even thinking, he just wants everything Fischer has to offer all the time. It's a problem, and he knows that, but he can't help it. "Fuck me hard."

Fischer wants to eat the filthy words right out of Gui's gorgeous mouth. He moves up his body, licking into the space between his parted lips, plunging his tongue inside. Elbows on either side of Gui's curly head, Fischer kisses Gui punishingly hard, bruising and biting his lips. He rubs his cock against Gui's slender hip, leaking against pale skin.

Gui wraps his legs around Fischer's hips, holding him there as they kiss, long and hard, sloppy and passionate, and deep swipes and sucks of tongue. Gui groans whorishly, rolling his hips against Fischer's.

Fischer could absolutely inhale Gui. He wants to take him apart, devour him, touch and lick and taste every inch, but above all else, his body is screaming to be inside him. He claws desperately at the boy, yanking his head back hard to suck at his throat, the tender places on the sides of his neck that he knows make his boy come apart. Stopping for only a moment, he reaches for lube, flipping open the cap one handed, eyes burning into Gui's. He slicks his cock and Gui's, gripping them together and stroking.

Gui has never been quite taken by anyone before, and being torn into proverbial pieces makes him harder than he ever thought he could be. He'd let Fischer tear him down to size with fists and knives if he wanted to. Gui craves the pain more than most people ever should. He groans as he's touched, stroked, and raked his blunt nails down Fischer's chest.

Fischer releases their cocks with a wet sound and moves both hands to Gui's plush ass, massaging and rubbing slippery, thick fingers over his hot, throbbing hole. He breathes hot against Gui's neck, holding him flush, Gui's cock pressed up against Fischer's body as he teases his pucker, slowly working his fingers inside. "You want it, gorgeous? Mmm...?"

"I want it all," Gui says, quietly, his voice rough with need as he all but mewls at being teased and prodded just the same.

One hand secured firmly on his ass, Fischer pressed two long fingers inside Gui, all the way in, curling them to brush the pads of his fingertips against his most sensitive spot. In and out he slid his fingers, circling his fingertips over on each dip inside. "Tell me what you want Daddy to do to you," he says, voice deep and stern. He drags his teeth over Gui's collarbone slowly, raking them across, making marks as he went. Fischer is struggling to keep himself controlled for Gui. He wants to make it good for him.

It's always good for Gui, but when Fischer starts talking like that , he loses every hint of control he might have before, and writhes and ruts against Fischer's fingers. A groan escapes his mouth instead of words at first, milky white skin flushed with arousal. "Pound my ass so I can't bear to walk without knowing you've been there. Every step a reminder of what I'm going to want again and again when you come home."

Fischer growls and pulls his fingers out, lifting Gui with strong arms, and rubbing the head of his cock against Gui's opening. He looks into hypnotic sea blue eyes as he lowers the boy onto his throbbing member, and groans as the heat engulfs him. Nothing in the world feels as good as the boy's body taking him like this. No matter how many times they fuck, Fischer swears he's addicted. He pulls a long thigh over his shoulder to get a good angle and plunges slow and deep into Gui, one hand wrapped around each leg, rolling his hips to build up a rhythm. 

Gui starts to pant, his ass raw from the other night still, but he likes the pain Fischer's hips bring against his plush cheeks with every thwack of hips against it. He grips the sheets under him, hips high up with only his shoulders like this against the bed. "Harder, daddy," he snarls. 

Fischer moans obscenely at the words and the vision beneath him. The boy is flushed red from his smooth chest up his long neck, lush rosy lips parted, pupils blown wide in pleasure, alternately grasping at Fischer's biceps and back, clawing at his chest. He knows Gui must be sore and yet he can't stop the snap of his hips from taking him brutally fast the way he wants. Fischer moves his hand over Gui's chest, dragging his nails over his initials, deliberately digging into the healing wound, as he grunts and stares into Gui's eyes, pumping harder.

The boy growls wildly, eyes narrowing on Fischer as something primal and animalistic seems to be coaxed out of him, and he's rolling and rutting up into Fischer, his cock slapping against his own taut stomach with every thrust that shakes his lithe form.

Fischer pulls out, taking Gui by his hips, and flips him onto his belly, lifting his hips in the air. He thrusts into him anew, slapping his ass hard. A bright red hand print blooms beautifully on the pale ripe flesh of Gui's satiny bottom. "Fuck, Gui, elsker, tage min pik, for helvede, du føler dig så godt ahh fuck fuck Gui, min skat, fuck, ahhh..." Fischer’s thick cock fills Gui, the heavy head pounding into Gui over and over hard, and he reaches under him to stroke him with a lube-coated hand as he fucks him raw.

The boy writhes and wriggles, stretching out  his hands to grasp the linens below him. He pressed his ass back against the pounding, gasping deep moans that go muffled into the pillow. "Allan...Allan!" Gui’s body goes tense as he arches, almost too much, a spark igniting through as his cock spasms in Fischer's hand.

As Gui's body bears down with pulsing intensity around his heavy cock, Fischer loses control of himself. Blinding pleasure shoots through him, and he digs nails into the boy's hips, leaving crescent shaped bruises. He bucks relentlessly through his orgasm, creamy pearls of cum seeping from the boy's gorgeously abused hole. Fischer continues to thrust even after he comes, unable to stop completely, but slowing his pace. His other hand is covered in Gui's cum, and he finally raises it to his lips and collapses on top of Gui's back, rolling to the side slightly. Still panting, he licks the cum from his hand, feeding some to Gui before devouring his mouth, sucking his tongue hungrily.

Gui moves over and licks Fischer's fingers between their lips, wrapping his leg over his lip to keep them close, even though they are panting through exhaustion. "Mmm," he hums and then rolls over Fischer, wanting to be close, aware he won't get much of him this week.

Trying to steady his breath, Fisher shifts beneath Gui trying to get as close to him as possible, get as much contact as they can between their sweat drenched bodies even as Gui wraps himself around him. "Never wanted anyone this much. Don't...know how I can survive one second away from you..." He whispers as he strokes Gui's curls.

Gui wants to say that Allan doesn't have to, but Allan has a job, and Gui should really find more work too to help out. Without it, they'd never be able to do anything fun. Gui kisses Fischer slowly. "I adore you, you wretched man," he grins, whispered against his mouth.

Fischer holds Gui on top of him, kissing him slowly, savoring him. "My wicked angel," he whispers between licks into the sweetest mouth he's ever tasted. "You are my greatest treasure..."

Gui preens at the lavishing and love he receives from Allan, and melts in in arms every time he hears those words, or something like it. "I love you, Allan..."

Fischer tangles his fingers in Gui's soft curls and whispers words in Danish, barely audible, then against his lips, "I love you, Guillaume." Sleep takes over Fischer's body and he cradles the boy in his arms. Gui isn't far behind.

*****

When Fischer wakes next, Gui is up already, making breakfast, or attempting to, eggs at the small kitchenette, humming in just a pair of his new jeans.

Fischer wakes smelling something delicious, opening his eyes and sees something even better: Gui in nothing but his new jeans, cooking. Fischer swings his long legs out of bed and walks over, stretching and grinning at him. "What you making, gorgeous?" He asks, embracing him from behind and kissing the back of Gui's neck.

Gui is attempting to make one eyed monsters; he's seen it on tv. "Food," he says.

Fischer looks at the skillet over his shoulder. "It smells good. I'm not used to anyone cooking for me. Mmm, thank you, love." He rubs his eyes and pulls some coffee beans out of the cupboard, filling the machine with water.

Gui smiles a little; his toast is a little soggy in the pan, the eggs not quite done yet. He's getting there. "Trying."

Truth is, Gui could make anything for Fischer and he'd gladly eat it like it was ambrosia. "I'm going to go take a quick shower and clean up for work, ok min skat? I'll come eat with you in a couple minutes," Fischer squeezes Gui's ass gently and heads for the bathroom.

Gui nods, flipping the toasts as Fischer went to shower. Gui could do that after Fischer left for the day. He wanted all the time he could get before he left for ten hours.

Fischer came out within a few minutes, towel tied around his waist, his hair combed back. He poured his coffee and moved over to Gui to kiss him. Fischer ran his hand up Gui's back to hold the back of his head and turn him around to kiss him deeply.

Gui smiles against Fischer's mouth, the stove off now and the meal plated, and he let his hands rove back over Allan's shoulders, twisting in his arms with long, languid limbs, as teeth bit at soft, perfect lips with a pleasing hum from the boy.

"I'll be thinking of you all day today, my wicked angel," Fischer whispers against Gui's mouth, sucking his bottom lip into his mouth with sharp fangs.

Gui whines a little, sidling up to Fischer, wantonly, his hips pressed tight against his towel clad ones, scraping nails down the back of his neck. Maybe if he begs enough, Fischer will stay. Fischer groans, pressing his rough palms down the silky skin of Gui's back to cup his denim-encased ass. He can feel the blood pooling in his groin and knows he needs to get ahold of himself before he loses control and is late to work. He reluctantly turns his head and reaches for a fork to take a bite of the food Gui made them, feeding a bite to Gui before taking a forkful himself.

Another soft whine from Gui’s throat, but he takes a bite anyway, gooey eggs, toasted bread, and greasy butter all mingle in his mouth, mostly making sure Fischer eats before work. He doesn't want him having a bite to eat with co workers, wants him just to think of him today. "I'll miss you terribly..."

Fischer ruts his half hard cock lazily through the towel into Gui's slim hip, pressing him against the kitchen counter, and takes another bite of eggs. "Mmmhmmmm, this is good, angel."

Seeing as Fischer has just showered, Gui won't make him work for it. Instead, Gui drops to his knees, shucks the towel off Allan's hips, and grips his cock hard as he gazes up at him. "Eat."

Fischer grips the counter, knees nearly buckling when Gui touches him. "Fuck...fuck...Gui," he gasps, his cock thickening in Gui's hand. Looking down into his beautiful boy's face he realizes just how helpless he is to resist his angel.

Gui presses his mouth around Fischer's hardening cock, lathing his tongue around the head, and then swallows him nearly whole, down his throat. gripping his thighs to steady them both. "For hevelde, darling, god...ahh..." Fischer gasped. Giu's mouth was a silky prison of perfect heat sucking him down, and when his head hit the back of his angel's throat, he could feel it tighten around him. Fischer ran his hand through Gui's hair, pulling it and rolling his hips.

Humming, Gui took Fischer down his throat over and over again, and then sucked the very tip, teasing with his tongue. "Eat," he sneered up at him, catching his breath.

One hand on Gui, he reached for the fork, groaning. It was a feat trying to focus on getting it into his mouth. Fischer looks down, watching his cock pushing wetly from between Gui's now swollen, red, gorgeous lips. Big blue eyes stare up at him, his thick eyelashes damp with tears. In all his life he wonders how Gui pulls so much out of him. His abdomen trembles and body begins to contract as his orgasm took over, shooting ropes of cum onto Gui's tongue and lips, on his face and chest. "Oh god, Angel you look gorgeous..." he pants as he continues rubbing against Gui's mouth, riding out the waves.

Gui swallows the cum and laps at the beads remaining on Allan's cock, making sure he cleaned off every last bit before he pulls back, panting against his hip. "Now you can go to work and not forget me."

Fischer kneels down next to Gui to kiss him, suckling his tongue sweetly. "How can I forget my beloved wicked gorgeous angel, who is etched on my heart?" He stands to get dressed quickly, noticing the time. "I hate having to leave, love but I'll be back as quickly as I can."

"Ten hours isn't quick," Gui says, standing, licking come from his lips, and then kisses Fischer goodbye.

"God, I know, love." Fischer kisses Gui deeply before leaving to go. It breaks his heart to leave. How he'll do this four days a week for ten weeks he has no idea. He doesn't know if he'll survive. He sighs and gets in the car, cursing the FBI and driving.

*****

Two days in of these ten hours days, and Gui has gone depraved of everything. He gets Fischer once at night before he's too tired to do much else, and then he blows him in the morning before he goes, but Gui is starting to feel bored, even in his line of work. On Allan’s departure the third day, Gui dresses in his darker clothes and goes out. He puts the do not disturb on the door so the maid won't bother his shit, and heads out down town. He'd gotten a text about a job, a few actually. One he kills quickly, and leaves the body strung up on a light post. Another he tortures and leaves the man the die, hanging upside down over the dock by the river. And the third, he dismembers, leaving a trail of body parts behind. It's done so quickly, most law enforcement haven't connected them.

*****

Fischer's FBI course entails everything from classroom lectures and testing to firearms and combat training. As an experienced member of Denmark's elite mobile unit squad, a large portion of the material is review for him and he finds it unbearably dull, particularly the classroom work. He passes the days drifting off daydreaming about Gui and imagining their life when he brings him home. 

He lives for the moment, every evening, when he gets back to the hotel to his beautiful young angel, losing himself in the luxury of worshiping every inch of his body. The blow jobs Gui gives him every morning are the only thing that get Fischer through the day; his classmates elbow him and tease him about his good mood but he doesn't share much beyond saying he met someone. Fischer has always kept his cards close to his chest, and while he's proud of Gui he's also aware of his activities. He doesn't want to draw attention to him needlessly.

*****

After about a week of leaving a trail for Fischer - all the bodies he can manage - Gui find his boredom growing with every passing day and hour.    
  
At the end of one particularly ‘busy’ day,  Gui finally just goes back to the hotel, covered in blood of the victims; he passes out on the bed, fully clothed,  exhausted.

It's around the middle of the third week of training, on a field investigation, when Fischer picks up on the dismembered bodies they are finding. He narrows his gaze on this latest victim, noticing carved designs in the flesh as he squats beside the body with his phone, making notes and taking photos. His face blanches white as the realization hits him and just as quickly he swallows and wipes his face.

"Gonna be alright there, Fischer? You look like you're gonna spew," one of his classmates asks, poking him in the ribs.

Fischer stands up a little too quickly and shakes it off. "I'm fine, just didn't get enough sleep last night. Gonna get some air," he says, turning away from the body and putting some distance between himself and the rest of the team. He pulls out a smoke and lights it. Of course, Fischer knows what Gui does. It excites him. But he also doesn't want to lose him and that is the thought that makes him feel ill, not the body.

*****

That night, Fischer returns to the hotel and opens the door, finding Gui in bed, covered in blood. He doesn't know it's not his own, and immediately slams and locks the door behind him, rushing to his side. "Gui, Gui, min skat, are you ok..." The agent is tearing open the boy's shirt, looking for any sign of injuries.

Startled, Gui stares up at Allan as he tears apart his clothes, and starts to laugh when he realizes Allan is worried it's  _ his _ blood. It's dried and stuck to his skin by now, worked up in his hair. Gui grabs Allan by the neck and pulls him down over him into a kiss. "I'm fine, I'm fine." He presses kisses against Allan's throat and jaw, fingers finding their way up to his shirt. "But you are too dressed."

Blue eyes flutter open, Gui smiles at him, and Fischer's heart soars. He brings a hand to his face, rubbing some dried blood from his skin. "I missed you so much min skat..." He devours Gui's mouth, kissing him as though he is the air he needs to breathe.

Gui makes a noise at that, and tugs Allan over him, wrapping legs around his hips. "I have missed you. I was so bored."

"Mmmhh," Fischer murmurs, nudging Gui's head to one side to expose the sensitive skin of his neck to his teeth and tongue. He licks and nips at him, shrugging his holster and shirt off his shoulders, and running his hand down the front of Gui's pants to rub at his fly. "Not too much...I saw what you did. It was beautiful. Saw your carving. Done before he was dead. My gorgeous wicked boy. I'm so jealous." He growls into Gui's throat. Fischer tears away at the rest of the boy’s bloody clothes, running his tongue over every inch of milky white skin and leaving bite marks as he moves down his body. He slides to the end of the bed to strip off the last of his own clothes, and then jumps back on the bed to climb back over Gui. His eyes are ablaze and he yanks Gui hard by his ankles to the middle of the bed.

"How jealous?" Gui asks, rolling his hips into Fischer's hands as he's undressed, latching on to Fischer to do the same.

"Very." This is what the boy wanted, after all, to be had and ravaged, to be needed with pent up jealousy. Gui does this for a living, but he does this to get at Fischer, to remind him of who he belongs to.

Fischer pulls Gui's legs into the air, kissing the back of his calf and ankle, and grinding his pelvis up along the back of his thick, muscular thigh. He drops Gui's legs down so he's spread eagle and lays on top of him again, rubbing their cocks together with his weight. "Did he enjoy it like I do, when you cut into his flesh like that?" he whispered harshly, breath hot over Gui's ear.

Gui groans whorishly as Fischer does that, and he grasps his hair and hold him just there against his sensitive ear. "No... none of them did. They begged and begged to not be killed... It was...wonderful."

Fischer scrapes his teeth over Gui's sweet, soft earlobe, down his neck, and to the center of his chest. He gnaws and lathes his tongue over every single wound he'd made along the boy’s silky, milk-white skin, worrying them open painfully. "Want you to do that to me, gorgeous, again, more," Fischer groans, his hand reaching under Gui's full balls to firmly massage his perineum as his hips rolled over his cock.

There hasn't been any time for Gui to make a mess of his favorite toy. The kid has blood lust like nothing else, and he has to fill it someway. The last thing he wanted to do was over-exhaust Allan, because then he wouldn't be any fun for a long time. He squirms and moans, wriggling under Allan's capable fingers. "Tomorrow," he promises.

Fischer bites down on a nipple, chewing at it and sucking hard. He pulls the tender bud up with his teeth looking in Gui's eyes. "Mmmmm. You better. Or else."

"Or else what? Hm?" Gui groans and tugs on Fischer, as though he could not get close enough. "Fuck me."

"All I could think about all day was tearing you open and fucking you. Tasting your blood, your cum, your sweat, Gui...god, I want you more than fucking anything," Fischer's amber eyes were red with lust. He spits in his hand and pumps it over his cock, staring into impossibly blue eyes. The older man rubs two wet fingers over Gui's hole, pressing them in. He wants to fuck him raw, wants to watch the pain in his face melting into his pleasure. His breathing gets harsher as he gives himself a few more strokes. "Want you to remember me the next time you do that..." Fischer holds himself up over Gui with muscular arms, sinking his teeth into a rosy bottom lip as he presses against Gui's hot entrance and breaches him in one thrust to the hilt.

Gui gasps out, ready to fall apart right there, his body melted and ready for Fischer, as he always is, hot and throbbing from head to toe. He digs heels into the bedspread, lifting his hips to take Fischer deeper, head pressed, chin up as he moans louder. "Allan... Allan !" God he can't stop saying his name, "It's always you I think about. Just you."

Fischer lets out a feral, beastly snarl. " _ ONLY ME _ ," he rasps, pounding his hips into Gui, not being slow or gentle at all. His pace is hard, fast, desperate. Seeing the body, the carvings, his beauty covered in the blood of his conquest, set something off in Fischer. He rakes his teeth down the long, perfect throat and settles in one place, sinking teeth in and biting down until tissue tears and hot crimson spills down Gui's neck. He almost howls as he laps it up, sucking at the wound.

Gui lets him; he takes in the pain as if it were a scratch, nothing else, letting it coil and burn into pleasure as dark blood oozes down his throat and neck slowly. Little pants in the air become strangled little growls of lust. He's gripping Allan's shoulders, but his fingers slide in slippery sweat. "Yours," he manages to get out, gasping.

Fischer's teeth are covered in his blood, his hair falling into his face as he pounds him relentlessly. He stares at Gui, whispering, "Kun mine, kun mine elskede..."

Gui would gladly die like this, and bares his throat to Fischer more, despite the gurgling noise he's making, he doesn't care. "Yours. I promise," he whispered, all he could as his body heated inside and out, rising fast and ready to explode.

Fischer sits up between Gui's legs, his hips bucking hard. Looming over him, the Dane wraps one hand around Gui's throat, thumb over his Adam's apple pressing down his nails into the bite viciously, blood dripping in dark rivulets down his porcelain skin. He grips Gui's cock in the other hand, stroking from base to tip. As he jacks him punishingly hard - as hard as he is pummeling his ass - the silky heat of his beloved's body tightens around like him velvet. Fischer throws his head back, feeling his balls tighten. He roars as he comes, shooting white, hot, deep inside his boy and never relaxing his iron grip on Gui's throbbing cock.

Gui teeters on the edge with pain and lust boiling together at the tipping point. Fischer floods him with come, hot and punishing all at once, and he feels himself ripped apart anew, shuddering, writhing, feeling gripped and ripped apart all at once. Gui's eyes squeeze shut and he's gasping for air, almost to the point of hyperventilation, hands gripping tight into the covers below.

Fischer watches Gui, not tearing his eyes off his breathtaking angel as he comes apart; it's the thing in this world he treasures most. Seeing pleasure quake through his beloved's body because of  _ HIM. _ It makes Fischer grunt possessively, and he lays down atop him, heavy and not caring, hands cupping both sides of Gui's gorgeous face, sucking the air from his lungs as the boy pants out his orgasm and shakes. Fischer claims his mouth and moans into him loudly, remaining inside him as Gui's come spreads hot between them.

It's minutes until Gui feels like he's stopped shaking, his body hums hot in flashes, and by the time he opens his eyes again, he's sure it's been long, long minutes, and he could be wrong, but it feels like he might have passed out for a second. His vision is blurry as his arms try to hold Fischer, raking blunt nails over the muscle skin of his back slowly. "Allan..."

Fischer rolls off of Gui; they are a bloody mess, rather literally. He runs one hand down the side of his face, rubbing his thumb over the boy’s bottom lip. "Yes, Gui?"

The high from the pain is still coursing through him, making him feel lighter and lighter, half in and out, spent. "I missed you," Gui whispers, biting at Fischer's thumb. Fischer leans in to lick over the boy's tempting lips and bite gently.

"I missed you too," Fischer whispers against his mouth. The older man pulls away to look into his eyes. "I'm terrified of how much I miss you when we're apart. How much I need you, and want you. I...I don't know what you've done to me. I can't live without you, Gui." Fischer strokes his curls, scratching some dried blood out between his thumb and forefinger. "I need to keep you safe..."

"I can keep myself safe," Gui insists, but he doesn't really understand the justice system here, or anywhere, he's not made to think that way. He thinks with self destruction.

* * *

 

Danish Translations:

Min elskede: My love

Allerkæreste: dearest sweetheart

Kun mine: Only mine 

Elskede: Beloved

Elsker: love   
Tage min pik: Take my cock

For helvede: hell

Du føler dig så godt: You feel so good.


	5. Chapter 5

As much as Gui loves to play games, he hates sitting around and waiting for Fischer’s days off, which were coming to be fewer and fewer as his training and job took more and more time from him. Gui understands, of course, but if Fisher was going to be gone, then Gui would make more work for him,  after all, any attention was better than no attention. After all, he has two more agents to take down before he’ll be allowed to continue off on a  life of his own. Enough playing around.

Weeks have passed since he last killed, and to get the right attentions, and not have Fischer merely dismiss him, Gui knows he can hit harder and closer to home with the two agents he must take down anyway.

One morning after Fischer leaves, Gui dresses quickly, efficiently, and arms himself with his a new knife, better than the switchblade, and nicer than the knife Allan originally took from him. In his suit, the one Allan loves so much on him and yet has had no time to peel him out of, the boy leaves, the hotel, locked up behind him, do not disturb sign on the front.

The first one, the woman, he stabs through the heart in her rented by the week apartment, and leaves her dangled over the tub, naked and languid, limp as he cut her spine over and ripped out each vertebra, in one long stripe, snapping it at the neck and pelvic bones. He kept them, in a nice little bag.

As for the last one, he has to wait for nightfall, aware Fischer would get back before him, but Gui has never not been there, so one night wouldn’t kill his favorite pass time, the only thing Gui finds he loves more than anything.

The agent walks out of the bar Gui has stalked to him, he’s alone thankfully. Gui stands by the wall, much the same as he had with Fischer, waiting, alluring, in the low light. The man stops, giving Gui a look, dark and wanting.

"Come, I can show you a good time,” Gui says, reaching one gloved hand out for the agent, who takes it. Gui leads him back to his crappie apartment, where he knocks the man out and cuffs him to the waterpipe in the ceiling.

Stripped down, the man groans when he wakes. “What the fuck-”

“Shh,” Gui cackles from behind him, knife in hand, hot from being held over a candle flame, the only source of light in the whole room made of up a  few of them. He walks closer and the agent starts to panic, to scream for help, to kick and writhe in anticipation.  Finally, Gui stuffs the man’s own sock in his mouth, and closed his own eyes, listening to the muffled madness of pleas that slips  out, taking in his fear, the one true aphrodisiac that really gets Gui going without a single touch.

“I think… I’m going to keep your heart,” the blue doe eyed boy says, slicing skin with the hot knife, swirling patterns into the man’s chest, burning off hair as he went. “Dig right into you and pull it out while you’re still breathing…”

The man’s head falls forward, sobbing as fat tears run down his flushed face. His pleas are near silent now as he knows his fate, he’s figured out who has found him, and how stupid they all were in their profiling.

Gui looks at his canvas, pleased, and then shoved the knife into the man’s chest and starts to rip his ribcage open, and then slices open his skin, watching the beating thing as he man starts anew on his sobbing and writhing with pain. Gui reaches in, finally, able to see it, able to get his slim fingers just in, and rips the organ out, stilling the man after a few moments.

“Wonderful,” the boy says, and takes the heart to closet in his room. He opens the door and pulls out an empty jar and stuffs it inside. He places it in line with a row of other jarred hearts.

He disposes of the body by the river.

***

Fischer is exhausted. With all the new bodies they’ve found strewn across the city, he’s had to put in overtime. Jack says he looks like hell, but if he is being honest with himself, his heart pounds with excitement at every new body they discover.

Everyone is on high alert, nerves ragged now that it has become clear this serial killer is targeting FBI agents. Everyone is worried except Fischer, of course, who has to pretend to be shocked and concerned.

He's proud of his beloved Gui, and frightened at how he feels about everything. He shouldn't feel this way, not as a cop, not as a detective, someone who's spent a lifetime sworn by the law to protect the innocent, and bring in people like Gui to receive justice. And yet his heart belongs to the boy, and that sense of justice has been overridden by his uncontrollable love. His is the first face he sees upon waking, the thing that keeps him going through the day, until he gets to the hotel each night. “Yours is the last face I want to see before I die,” he whispered to Gui one night after making love to the boy.

The agents, including his boss Jack, have an utterly absurd profile for the killer, and Fischer has done his part in misleading everyone. They have the person pegged as an older white male, someone sophisticated, wealthy, with a lot of free time, highly intellectual, with surgical experience, perhaps even a doctor, and maybe one who is a patron of the arts, given the elaborate and often hauntingly beautiful manner in which they find the bodies. Always with parts missing, not a trace of evidence left behind.

The last one was an agent he knew, a man who was actually incredibly annoying to Fischer. The man had been mocking him for weeks, was abrasive and loud-mouthed, and Fischer being the sarcastic and aggressive smart-ass that he was, often gave as good as he got. Jack had to break them up several times. So when they found the man's body, his heart missing, Jack took Fischer himself in for questioning. He admitted they'd had disagreements, as everyone knew, but Jack didn't think Fischer was responsible. He'd been so stressed, so concerned about these deaths, and put in so much time helping with the profile, Jack never suspected the agent was involved; questioning him was a formality, justified by their many altercations.

Jack is, however, becoming increasingly paranoid, with two agents now dead, that perhaps the serial killer is targeting his people specifically. Fischer wonders what Gui's reasoning was for killing the agents; his previous victims had been mainly criminals, low-lifes, people no one would miss. He knows his treasure is quite jealous, and suspects he'd been watching and following him, but he never brings it up when he comes back at night.

When Fischer returns to the hotel that night, he is disturbed and worried to see Gui isn't there. He texts the boy with no response. He’s tempted to go look for him, but has no idea where he might be; maybe he'd left him, he begins to think in a fever. Doubts creep in, and Fischer downs five shots of whiskey trying to calm himself. Finally he gets in the shower, trying to ignore the agony. He is too drunk to be upright by the time he collapses to bed.

He's been home for hours, laying there, staring at the ceiling and alternately checking his phone. Nothing. Before long, the warmth of the shower and the booze he'd consumed took over his body and he falls asleep, his mind plagued with nightmares about his wicked angel in peril.

***

It’s late when Gui returns to the hotel, having left his treasures from his hunt off his place, which he’s aware he’s told Allan he’s wiped clean out, but the boy needs somewhere to stow his things where Fischer can’t know they are, due to his job. He presses the key into the lock and quietly, entered, shutting it again. Gui has taken special care not to ruin the suit he’s in, slightly worn and wrinkled, but not a spot of blood to be found. He takes the suit off, Fischer asleep, he is quiet as he can be. He hangs the suit in the closet, and then crawls over the bed, straddling Fischer’s hips with his boxer clad ones, and stares down at him, unsettlingly.

Fischer stirs, feeling weight on him, and opening blinking caramel eyes. He squints to see Gui atop him, staring at him like he’s dinner, or,  _ something _ . After being so panicked about him being missing, he gasps a little as he becomes more aware of himself and realizes he’s not asleep. He reaches up to clasp the boy by the shoulders.

“Gui, fucking hell I was so worried. Are you…” he stumbles over his words, running his hands over Gui in the semi-dark room to find any injury. “Are you alright?” he asks abruptly, feeling a mixture of anger and relief.

“I was finishing my tasks,” Gui states, quietly, coldly, his hands pressed in on Allan’s chest, long fingers splayed into his chest hair, like grounding himself in the moment, coming down from a bloodlust induced high. “I had to clean up.”

Fischer is speechless, staring up at the boy, the look in his eyes not unlike the way he looked in his apartment that one night, but somehow different. The agent’s anger gives way to fear; though he knew Gui was simply doing what he already long since known he did, something about his eyes made Fischer’s blood run cold.

“I thought you’d left me,” he finally says, his voice a little hollow, breaking Gui’s gaze to close his eyes.

The boy’s gaze watches Allan carefully, his hands sliding from chest to his collar bones, across his skin and then around his neck gently, thumbing against his pulse there. “Why would I leave, Allan?”

Fischer opens his eyes slowly, focusing on Gui’s lips as he feels pressure on his carotid artery. His heart races, thumping wildly within his chest. How beautiful, lithe, innocent this creature looked, capable of such things no one would ever imagine. Even now, as strong as Fischer is, he could snuff his life out in an instant. He’s not sure he would stop him; that scares him more than anything.

“You could be bored with me. Met someone else, been attacked, hurt, arrested, though I would’ve heard if it were that,” he says, breath coming in shorter gasps as his fear locked his belly tight. They were connected, so much between them in such a short time, but Fischer reminds himself, it could all go away in the blink of an eye.

No one has ever held his interest quite like Allan has, and that to Gui is worth keeping him around for, worth loving him for. His hands are strong but his touch is nothing more than a sweeping caress over his throat, never pressing, never choking. The fear is rippling off Allan in waves, and the boy cannot help but lap it up, soak in it with a long, drawn in breath.

“I can’t sit around all day and wait for you to come back,” Gui says, quietly, leaning over Fischer as he gazes down into his amber eyes. “You work too much for me to do that.”

Fischer sighs, reaching up to caress Gui’s face tenderly. “You’ve made a lot of extra work for the guys. And me, misleading everyone all day...The profile they have is...not you. But I’m so proud of you every time we find a body. It makes me miss you even more,” he said quietly, finally meeting Gui’s gaze. “Jack is worried that you’re targeting our team.”

“Just the three I’ve taken down,” Gui promises, realizing this might be his fault he doesn’t see Fischer, but surely they have more people than just him. Well, not anymore...The boy pouts, brows furrowed.

Fischer is still a bit drunk from before, and as he relaxes under Gui, he starts to mumble things he doesn’t know better than not to say, in his current state. “I want to watch you do it, Gui, one of these times.”

That would make Allan an accessory, Gui is smart enough to know that. He places a small, lazy kiss on Allan’s lips. “I wouldn’t have you risk your job, Allan. You’re working too hard to do that now.”

Fischer pulls Gui closer to him, returning the kiss a little sloppily. “What about when we get to Denmark?” he whispers against his lips. His other hand wanders over Gui’s back and down his leg, fingers slipping under the fabric of his boxers, feeling up the soft skin of his thigh.

The boy could tell Fischer was inebriated, but he kissed him soundly for the words, and the touches, shivering a little under his fingers. “Maybe if we’re careful,” Gui promises, biting Fischer’s lower lip and sucking on the soft mound of flesh.

Fischer sighs sleepily; he can feel himself drifting off again. He hums low in his throat and his hands slide up Gui’s sides. He rolls Gui off of his body, and tucks him close to his side, moving his arms to support Gui’s head. His eyes are a bit unfocused, but he can still see Gui by the soft moonlight coming through the slightly parted hotel curtains. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, min skat,” he mumbles, and sleep finally takes over his body.

“Go to sleep, Allan,” Gui whispers, still wide awake, and watches Fischer sleep for hours energy coursing through his veins, the day’s events have done nothing but pump him up for more.

***

Come morning, Gui shimmies out of Allan’s grasp and did as he always has and started breakfast at the small stove.

Fischer wakes to the smell of food cooking and coffee; his head pounds and his stomach hurts. He grunts and coughs as he stirs, opening one eye to look at Gui and promptly putting the pillow over his head. “Morning darling,” he whispers hoarsely. “I  _ really _ was out of my mind last night.”

“You were piss drunk,” Gui says, and flips the egg over in the pan, giving Fischer a look over his shoulder. “Pills on the nightstand for you and a beer, it should help.” He’d read enough about hangovers just in case he’d ever gotten one, but so far he’d held his liquor just fine.

Fischer reaches for the nightstand blearily, one eye open. “You’re an angel, thank you love,” he mutters, sitting up to take the pills and popping open the beer. He rubs a hand over his face tiredly. “I’m glad as hell I don’t have to work today,” he exhales, pressing fingers into his eye sockets.

“No? Even if they want you to come in and work on the case of the murdered agents?” Gui asks, blinking big doe eyes over at Fischer and then flips the egg onto the plate.

Fischer groans and checks his phone groggily. “It’s the weekend. I swear to fucking god, if Jack calls me…” he flicks his phone on and sighs at the messages, all from the night before. “No, I’m not fucking, not going in. Besides I think I’m still drunk,” he says flatly, looking over at Gui and throwing his phone on the bed. He stands to go to the bathroom. “I need to shower, I’ll be right back. Maybe by then I can eat some of what you’ve made,” he grumbled, trudging to the next room, feet dragging.

Fischer is decidedly grumpy. Gui frowns as he watches him go and then turns the stove off and leaves the eggs and sausage on the plate for him when he’s ready for it. His own cell rings from the dresser and he goes to grasp it, a message waiting for him from the Creator. He’s pleased, but wants to see Gui immediately.

Fischer gets out of the bathroom a short time later, a towel around his face and looking a bit more awake. “Well, I’m alive. I think I might eat some breakfast,” he said, walking across the room to Gui to kiss him softly. He squeezes the back of his neck and wanders back to the kitchen area to pour some coffee.

Gui doesn’t answer the text, he simply pockets his phone before Fischer could see who was texting him, not that he’s going to know unless he reads it. “Good idea. You’ll be sick otherwise.”

“I haven’t hardly seen you all week. I really want to spend the day with just you, just us. It’s been too long, kæreste,” Fischer says, moving his plate and coffee to the table by the window and sitting down.

It’s a risk, but Gui isn’t going to answer the text today, he’ll spend it with Fischer, since this was what he wanted after all. He takes his own coffee and goes to sit with him. “What would you like to do?”

“We could see a -good- movie. Not a cheesy one, but a good one. And then I could take you to lunch. Anything you want,” Fischer adds, stuffing his mouth with eggs and sausage.

Gui shrugs, he’s not picky, he doesn’t know the difference between a good movie and bad one, just what he’s seen and what’s been on the hotel television when Fischer isn’t around. “What else is good?”

“We could go stalk my co-workers. I’d get to watch how you do it. I always feel you’re watching me, yet I never see you,” Fischer takes a swig of coffee, his eyes staring at Gui intensely, full of love and maybe a bit of possessiveness.

“If I show you, you’ll know I’m there,” Gui teases, coyly, and sips his coffee slowly, still hot.

“You can’t blame me for being aroused by what you do, Gui. I doubt we’d have gotten this far if I didn’t love it so much,” Fischer states, finishing up his food and bringing the dishes to the sink to wash off. He dries his hands and walks over to the closet to look for clothes, whipping off the towel and tossing it on the bed, casting a sidelong glance at Gui as he stands naked.

“You think you would have turned me in by now if you didn’t find it arousing?” Gui asks, though the question is fruitless, as they both knew if Fischer had tried, he’d be long dead by now. The boy gives the older man canted gaze and a once over.

“Well, even if I didn’t find it so hot….there’s still the matter of you. Being attracted to you. I think that would stop me, or at least give me pause,” Fischer says, pulling out a pair of jeans and a tee shirt. He tugs it over his head and it clings to his torso like a second skin. Stepping into his jeans he smiles over at Gui seductively. “Not to mention, how would I fare against you? I’m bigger than you, but I’m no fool. I know how dangerous you are.”

Gui hasn’t been trying, for the most part, he doesn’t want to hurt Allan, not like that. He finally stands and finds his own slim fit jeans and a nice button up, one of the ones Allan bought for him that brought out the color of his eyes. “But you know I’d never hurt you…”

“Gui, do you remember once asking me if I’d ever eaten human flesh? I am still curious, you know.” His eyes darken as they took in Gui in the clothes he’d bought him.

“Who would you want to eat?” Gui asks, not at all against putting himself out there, but he’s not too knowledgeable in the arts of flanking himself and still being able to live.

Fischer looks at him adoringly and whispers, “You, except I can’t, not like that. So...perhaps one of your victims,” he says quietly.

Gui won’t mention that eating people is part of his Creator’s influence, he doesn’t want to ruin the mood. “Maybe later. When I do it again?”

“Yes...the next one,” Fischer said darkly. He never would have thought something like that would make him so excited, but the young man has brought many things out of the older man he’d never have considered in the past. He kissed the boy on the cheek and got up to get his keys. “So, what do you feel like doing _ today _ ? We should get out of here, do something fun.”

Fun to Gui is something dangerously dark and murderous. He doesn’t suppose any of that is on the list. “You decide.”

“So it’s up to me, huh? Okay, let’s go,” he says with a devilish grin, and opens the door for Gui. “We’re taking the car,” the older man comments, closing the door behind Gui and pressing the button to unlock the Nissan.

“How else would we get to where ever it is we’re going?” Gui snarks as he follows Allan out, never once questioning what he’s doing.

Fischer smacks the boy’s ass playfully as he gets into the car.

He drives for sometime, taking him outside the city limits, and after about half an hour, they are approaching an amusement park. Yes, it's juvenile, cheap thrills, but Gui  _ is  _ only a few months old. Fischer grins as they pull into a seemingly endless parking lot. “Ever heard of bungee jumping? Free fall rides or roller coasters? If you liked our driving lesson, you'll love this, min skat,” Fischer says, reaching over to rub the boy’s thigh.

Gui shakes his head slowly, he’s never even heard of those things, who has time honestly? But Allan is much older in years and wisdom. He trusts him. “What are they?”

Fischer’s heart swells and warms at the naive innocence of his love. He's so wise and experienced in some respects, it's easy to forget there's so much for him yet to experience. “They're rides that you get strapped into, they go very fast. You get on the ride, it goes up and up and up forever and then it drops you straight down, you're just in the air. It's safe, but presents the excitement of danger.” He walks toward the gates holding Gui’s hand and squeezes. “I'm very sure you are going to enjoy this, min skat.”

“Danger without actually being in danger?” Gui queries, blinking big blue eyes over at Fischer. “People like this?” Most people, from what he has seen, hate danger when they are presented with it. Gui eats off their fear.

“It's one of the ways the rest of society gets a thrill of danger, the fabricated sense of fear, without the consequences of death or actual peril,” Fischer comments as they reach the front where tickets are being sold. He releases Gui’s hand momentarily to pay for their entrance, and then holds out his hand as the young lady operating the booth places a bright yellow band around his thick wrist. He looks over at the boy nodding for him to do the same.

Gui stares, his eyes becoming a glare as he looks at the girl and then hold his wrist out, and snatches it back to follow his Fischer. “What is this?” he asks of the yellow paper thing around his wrist. “Are they tracking us?”

Fischer holds back a laugh, and sobers his face, shaking his head. “No, it’s so we can come and go all day as we please, and so the employees know we paid for our admission. It’s removeable. I’ll cut them off when we’re done. It’s only paper,” he says, taking Gui’s hand again and running his fingers over the boy’s arm. He moves his hands to around the younger man’s trim waist and guides him into the park, towards a large, steel tower. It’s very early in the day still, only a short line before them for the ride. “I promise you’ll love this, min elskede.”

Gui’s brows are permanently furrowed, annoyed and confused as to what they are going to do. Driving was one thing, but he’s not so sure about any of this. “Fischer…” Screams from people on rides fills the air and Gui starts to relax, just a little.

They're next in line, and Fischer guides Gui towards the small box as the kid running the ride gestures them inside. He takes the boy's hand as he sits. “We sit in here and pull this harness down,” the older man says.

The ride holds four people at a time, and a young couple get in next to them. The girl looks terrified already, and sits reluctantly between Gui and her boyfriend, with Fischer on his right. Fischer leans close to Gui's ear and whispers, “It's a free-fall ride. They'll take us up the tower and then it's a straight drop down,” he smirks, squeezing Gui's hand.  

Gui looks right at Fischer for a moment as they are crawled to the top of the tower, achingly slow, as if the anticipation will be too much for some. He turns his wicked gaze to the girl next to him, drinking in her panted, scared breaths, and the way her chest heaves as she starts to show her real terror. It’s not like the sort of he’s used to, but it’s different and maybe enough to satiate himself for a day or two.

“Like a broken lift,” Gui says as he turns his gaze back to Fischer.

Fischer laughs suddenly. The loud “click click click” of the machine is almost too loud, meant to punctuate the apprehension in the riders, sounding rickety. At the top the wind whips wildly, the tower swaying and creaking slightly.

The girl next to Gui begins to clutch her boyfriend's arm and is near tears, whispering frantically to him that she wants to get off, that she doesn't want to do this. The entire car drops only a fraction, a tease, and she screams next to him, shaking violently. Fischer can't see the guy's face, but the young woman is pale as a ghost and tears are now streaking down her cheeks. The older man is smiling from ear to ear at his wicked, perfect angel.

“Yes, like a broken lift,” he says a bit too loudly, and the girl turns to stare at him in horror.

“Whhaa..?” she starts, just as the car juts out from the main tower, now suspended with nothing below their feet but several hundred feet of air.  

The suddenly thrill of being dropped, like he was being thrown from a building, or down an empty shaft with nowhere to land, has Gui in utter hysterical laughter. The girl is bawling her eyes out while the boy is has let go of the harness all together and is completely enjoying himself.

The moment of weightlessness, that little shiver in his belly when they drop, and Fischer is laughing all the way down, looking at Gui and his complete unbridled joy. Surely the ear-piercing shrieks of the young girl next to him only add to the excitement, and the older man knows it.  

Gui wants to eat the screams from the girl in ways that are only natural for a clone of his nature. To see her in blood, covered in it, screaming and screaming… Gui’s eyes close, he is in utter bliss just listening to the girl wail as the ride levels on.

As they emerge from the ride, Fischer throws his arm around Gui’s shoulders and chuckles as he sees the girl trying to shake off her tears, but stumbling. Fischer plucks the boy’s hand and puts it in his jeans pocket, stealing a quick kiss on his cheek. “You like that?” he asks. “There’s more. A lot more. Roller coasters,” he says, pointing at an enormous ride in the distance, shrieks coming from it as it descends down a steep bank.

“Yes,” the boy states, curling his fingers inside of Fischer’s pocket and then kissed him full on the lips, not caring who sees them. “Do people die on these?”

Fischer looks ahead as they walk and nods. “Oh yes. Decapitations, people have been thrown from them, failed brakes, collapses, all manner of gruesome deaths have occurred on roller coasters everywhere,” he says matter-of-factly. “One kid had his hat fall off one of these things,” the older man said, gesturing toward the ride as they approached it. “He hopped the fence to retrieve it, and was beheaded by the legs and feet of another rider...she had pieces of his brains inside her shoes. Some have derailed, some fallen from the top. I heard of one in England where a kid was tossed and splattered to the pavement, pulverized. Dead instantly.”

Gui’s eyes glitter, clearly very interested in all that Fischer says, and wraps his arm around him and watches some of the rides, obviously hoping something awful would happen. “Does it happen often?”

Fischer tugs Gui closer and walks him over to a tree, pulling him close and leaning down to kiss him. “Yes, more than people would like to admit. It could happen here, who knows.” The older man winks at Gui and leads him back to the entrance of a particularly tall, winding steel coaster.

Gui is already tearing the coasters apart with his mind, wondering what he could do to unhinge one, to make something disastrous happen. The carnage, the blood, it would all be worth the effort. Gui closes his eyes and sighs, thinking of the screams of the girl one hundred fold. “I want it to happen.”

Fischer laughs as they wait in line, not many in front of them. He smiles down at Gui and pushes a wayward curl behind his ear. His big blue eyes glitter with excitement before he closes them, dark lashes fanning across his rosy, deceptively cherubic cheeks. “You’re so beautiful, my sadistic, wicked little angel,” he grins. The taller man waves a few people in front of them; he wants to select a specific seat, the front row, for Gui’s first time. “I want us to sit in front,” he explains. “You’ll feel more of the velocity, and hearing the screams behind us...I know you’ll like it.”

Gui’s eyes light up when Allan talks about the screams, though he knows it’s always more excitement here than fear, but it was better than nothing until he could figure a way to make his own sort of fun. “Won’t they get lost to the wind?”

They walk towards the cars, Fischer stepping in first and pulling big black bars over his chest. “You’ll hear them well enough, believe me,” the older man says, and as Gui sat next to him, he leans over and whispers, “These don’t always work, you know,” he remarks teasingly, tapping a finger on the bars and looking behind them.

A vacant-eyed teenager saunters lazily along the tracks, mumbling instructions and warnings about keeping arms and legs inside the cars, pocketing any loose items like glasses or jewelry, and advising the bars over them would remain locked until the ride came to a stop.

“The bar? Don’t they check for those things?” Gui asks, curiously, not wanting it to happen them, per say, but to see it happen to others and aftermath is more than enough to spur on the boys curiosity.

Clever boy. Not one to be teased, Fischer smirks to himself. “Yes they do. But machines fail,” he comments, and the cars lurch forward abruptly before slowing and crawling at a snail’s pace up a steep hill. The grade presses them back against their seats as it climbs higher and higher still.

“But it’s not likely,” Gui says with a little sigh, he’ll just have to deal with this ride and then think of how to fix it later.

They reach the top, and sit there for almost a full minute. Fischer doesn’t answer, just looks over at Gui, waiting for the drop, wanting to see his face when it happens. It comes unexpectedly, and the boy’s eyes nearly bug out of his head, his stomach in this throat, that makes him feeling like he’s  _ flying _ . The screams from behind them roared loud in his ears, and Gui lets go of the safety bar, testingly.

Fischer grins, throwing his hands above his head with abandon. “No hands!” he yells, seeing Gui is way ahead of him, having let go of the safety bar on the first drop. The velocity with which they travel pulls at their faces, alternately shoving them back into the seats with each loop and sharp turn. It’s been years since the agent has been on one of these things, and it makes him feel like a kid again.

Gui is a child in all respects, and he loves the fuck out of the ride, feeling tossed at every turn and like he might just fall out in the upside downs. He almost wants to be sick, but he’s having far too much fun to even   _ think  _ about it. He’s not screaming though, just listening to the blissful cries of the wretches behind them.

As the cars pull back into the corral, Fischer turns to Gui and drinks in his excited, child-like expression and cheeks flushing with excitement. “You like it?” he beams, thrilled at the boy’s reaction, his own heart pounding fast. It’s an adrenaline rush, not as dangerous as their driving adventure had been yet more violent and certainly more physically thrilling.

Gui nods his head as they exit off, and he grasps Allan’s hand tightly in his own, caring not for the way people stare. “Yes. Very, very much so.”

Fischer leans in to steal another kiss from Gui’s lips as he nearly vibrated. “Are you hungry, min skat? We haven’t eaten today. There’s all kinds of bad food here,” he says, tugging his hand toward the food vendors. The smells of sizzling sausages and sugary, fresh baked funnel cakes lured them closer, and they stood in line behind a giggling couple. The older man anchors both arms around Gui’s shoulders, smiling down at him with a smitten expression.

“What’s good?” Gui asks, his blue eyed gaze bearing into Fischer with genuine curiosity. It all smelled wonderful, honestly.

Fischer positions himself behind Gui, resting his chin on the boy’s shoulder and snaking his arms around his waist. “Polish sausage and fried dough,” he says. “Those were always my favorites.”

“We’ll have that then,” Gui answers, with a grin, open to try anything honestly, as he has no idea what it is he likes anyway.

Fischer gets up to the counter and orders, and soon he is handing a piping hot, long sausage to the boy with a grin. He gets them both a lemonade to share, as well as an obscenely large, puffy piece of fried dough covered in white powdered sugar. He tears off a piece and reaches for Gui's lips, to feed it to him. “It's hot, but try some,” he says.

Gui opens his mouth and looks at Fischer as he feeds him the hot, doughy fried treat. He makes a lewd noise as they walk, humming his pleasure. “Are all things fried this good?”

Fischer bites his lower lip, his eyes focused on Gui's decadent lips as he consumes the treat. “Yes, they are actually. Pretty much anything tastes better breaded and fried.” He takes one end of the sausage and bites down, juices streaming from the meat as he licks his lips. He groans a little at how good it tastes, just the right hint of spiciness. “Can't eat this way all the time. Not too healthy but mmm, so good,” he says rolling his eyes to demonstrate how much he's enjoying it. He eyes Gui and makes a mental note to get some strawberries and whipped cream later. Something about watching Gui eat makes him want to get very messy. He directs them towards a bench under the shade of a tree, off to a relatively quiet section of the park, and sits down.

Gui walks with him, to the bench, and steals more of the doughy thing and then takes the sausage from Fischer and stuffed a bite into his mouth. “Mmm... why not?”

“This shit will make you gain weight like crazy. Diseases too. I’m not one for moderation in anything but...at the very least a stomach ache every once in awhile is no big deal,” Fischer laughs. “Besides, it’s more delicious when you don’t have it all the time,” he winks at Gui, leaning over to lick some powdered sugar from the corner of his lips.

Gui captures Allan’s mouth with his own while he’s there, sharing the taste of sugar between them, and then holds him tightly. “Does that mean I need to moderate how often I have _ you _ ?”

“Absolutely not. Never,” Fischer says, lifting Gui’s chin again to suck the sweet treat from his tongue. “You’re a habit I never plan to quit. Addictive.”

Gui all but climbs Fischer right there, arms around his shoulders, legs around his hips, tongue delving into his mouth as they share the taste of the sweetness between them. “Good. Won’t live without you.”

Fischer laughs in delight having his beautiful boy in his lap like this, and it’s sexy that he’s doing it where they could potentially be seen. The middle of a park like this...it’s kinky. He reaches around to knead Gui’s ass with firm hands, funnel cake and sausages abandoned on the seat next to them. “If I could, I’d fuck you right here, you know,” he whispers, brushing his lips along Gui’s jawline and sinking his teeth in on the side of his neck.

A low pleased hum escapes Gui’s mouth, head lolled back as his nerves burn on fire at every touch his Fischer makes against him. It never takes much from the other man set Gui off in a rage of wanton hormones. “Fuck me then. Right here under the tree, on this bench where no one is paying attention.”

Fischer moans deep in his throat at the words, and he can feel his cock thicken as the boy writhes in his lap. “Fuck, I need you so bad, Gui. You make me so hard, min skat. Want to be inside you,” he says in a rough voice.

Gui bites his lip and slips off Fisher’s lap to lower his jeans, over his ass,  down his thighs just enough. He turns, and seats himself over Fischer’s lap again, rolling naked, round cheeks against his growing erection. “Fuck me.”

Fischer’s breathing quickens at the spectacle of his wicked angel, and he looks around to see if anyone is within eyeshot. He knows they can't do this, not here. If anyone came around the corner, no innocent explanation for a boy bouncing up and down in his lap. He quickly lifts Gui up and with a grunt, pulls his jeans up just as a security guard is rounding the corner. Both men with obvious erections, though clothed and panting, it’s very clear what they're doing. “Hey,” the park cop says, approaching.

Gui glares at Allan first and then the park security cop, eyes narrowing. He’s not even close to done here, he wants to ride all the rides and hope to see someone suffer and die. Is that too much? Oh, while being fucked, that’d be nice too. Gui’s hand goes to his pocket, flicking open his concealed knife.

Fischer curses his raging hard-on and attempts to look serious, meeting the cop’s gaze straight on in hopes of deflating himself. It works, and he stands up, shuffling Gui behind him protectively.

“What exactly is going on here, gentlemen? This is a family establishment, not Central Park,” the man huffs, his voice booming and authoritative. Fischer bites back a sarcastic comment, knowing this isn't the time or place for his usual sharp tongue.

“Nope, just having some food, taking a break is all,” he replies coolly.

Gui’s fingers clench in his pocket around the knife, ready to start trouble, but he can feel the need to not get into it rolling off Fischer. He sighs. “We could take our money elsewhere.”

Fischer senses what's going through Gui's head, and admits to himself how part of him  _ wants _ to watch his boy take someone apart. But now, in the middle of the afternoon at a theme park, isn't the right time or place. “We certainly can. But I hate to have a good day ruined. We haven't even been on the Wildcat yet. Hey, we got it, man. No more shenanigans from us, promise,” Fischer says, trying to diffuse the situation with a friendly smile, though inside he's positively seething.

“Well, keep your hands to yourself. If I see any more from you two, you're out of here, understand?”

“Yes, sir,” Fischer can't help but say a little sarcastically, and he gathers their food and nods his head to Gui. “Come on. We'll sit at one of the picnic tables and finish eating, then do the Wildcat,” he suggests, looking at Gui emphatically.   

Gui watches Fischer turn himself inside out for that prick, and growls at the guard at they walk past him slowly. He’s not thrilled, he’s not even happy anymore as they trod off. “Why bother?”

Fischer guides Gui by the small of his back to the restrooms and darts an eye around. Not the nicest of locations, but he really needs his wicked angel. Seeing no one in the facilities, and the guard not following them, he grins and pulls Gui inside and locks the door. ”Now, I believe we were doing something before that prick interrupted us...” he purrs, pressing Gui against the door.

Gui drops the food and wraps his arms around Fischer tightly, kissing him. “This works too, I guess…”

“I can't believe you dropped your pants in the middle of a park, Gui. So, so very bad,” Fischer says between bites along Gui's neck, his hands running under the boy's shirt to explore warm, smooth skin.

“For you,” Gui gasps, fingers tight in Allan’s hair, tugging him into bite his neck more, rolling slim hips up. Fischer unzips Gui’s jeans, pushing them down just around his thighs as the boy had done himself earlier. He slides his hands to his plush backside, kneading the flesh and loving how it was so accentuated by the waistband just below the delicious swell of his rump.

“Allan,” Gui sighs with a groan, and kisses him hard and hot, sucking on his tongue, before he turns around and shoves his ass out toward Fischer. “Do it.”

The feel of that ass pressing up against Fischer drives him out of his mind, and he spits into his hand, rubbing over Gui's twitching hole. He pushes up, gasping at the view of that sweet little hole twitching for his cock so desperately, how perfect it feels as he sinks inside. “Fuck, min  elskede, this might hurt but, oh fuck,” he gasps as he presses deeper.

Gui doesn’t mind one little bit. He pushes back against Fischer, taking him up his ass, to the hilt, breathing out in ragged moans as he stretches like a cat against the wall, arching. “Fuck, Fischer…”

Fischer digs crescent-shaped marks into his angel’s hips, gripping him tightly and jackhammering into Gui. No pretense, no attempt to be gentle or delicate, just raw, unadulterated, animalistic “fucking” in every sense of the word. “For helvede, Jeg har tænkt mig at kneppe din røv så god Fucking helvede. Du tager min pik perfekt…” Fischer moans with abandon, scraping his teeth across the boy’s perfectly pale, silky skin, scarring him anew with fresh teeth marks and pink, sucking bruises which rapidly turned blue against the porcelain canvas.

Gui holds tight to the wall, his hands slipping against the smooth, cold surface before reaching one hand back to grasp Fischer’s muscular thigh, trying to get him in as deep as possible. Panting against the tile, Gui peers blue eyes back at Allan, completely enamoured with the man and how ravaging he gets when Gui works him up. “Allan-”

The Dane is completely enslaved to his beloved, sinful treasure. Fischer feels the boy’s claws reaching back, desperately urging him harder and faster. Their eyes meet, feral blue into ferocious brown, and the connection is incendiary and unmistakable. He cries out in protest of his body as molten hot come pulses up his shaft and deep inside Gui. It’s a blinding rush, a jolt of pleasure that echos through his body, making him shake and moan powerfully, burying himself to the hilt so the boy can feel the hot sticky fluid shooting against his sensitive pleasure center. “I can’t, oh fuck, Gui, Gui, Gui…”

Feeling Allan's hot, sticky mess, Gui comes undone only seconds later, moaning and splattering against the wall. Panting, he holds Fischer just there, against him, inside him. “Wretched.”


	6. Chapter 6

The two find themselves at back at the hotel as the sun sets, and Gui is pleasantly exhausted and sated from their romping around the part and enjoying so many fun rides. He’s never experienced anything quite like it. Flying around on cloud nine, Gui waits for Allan to open the door. When he does, it’s pushed open, the “do not disturb” sign still on the handle so the cleaning service knows not to clean today, or most days as it were.

Gui stops half way into the room, everything is picked up, everything has a proper spot. Clothes are tossed into a laundry hamper they didn’t own, a recycle bin is placed by the door with all the empty bottles and cans, and there isn’t a speck of trash to be seen.

A note lies elegantly on the pillow where Gui sleeps, the bed is made, and the room smells of sweet lavender. The boy scurries to pick up the note.

_Guillaume;_

_Ignoring one’s calls and text messages is rude. You have better manners, I suggest you use them. Or has the agent you find yourself sharing a bed with taken that from you as well? You have one day to reply._

_-H.L_

Fischer's ease falls away rapidly as he notices the opened door, and upon entering the room and seeing everything completely cleaned up, his apprehension grows. He steps in, immediately regretting leaving his gun behind, and opens the drawer to locate the weapon. To his relief, it’s still there, and he quietly loads it and goes to the bathroom to check for the intruders. Seeing all clear, he lowers the weapon and strides to the bed to read the note after Gui drops it. “Lecter,” he says aloud, turning back to look at the boy grimly.  

Gui is hardly bothered by the letter, and tugs his phone from his pocket. “He just wants contact. Stop worrying, Allan.” Gui jots off a message to the creator, and slides the phone into his pocket once more.

“Difficult to do that,” Fischer replies, snorting as he walks around the room. “What does he want with you? Another job?”

“Probably,” Gui says with a resigned sigh. He’s the creator’s creation, after all, what good is he if he’s not being made use of?

Fischer huffs in displeasure. He knows this is part of the deal, part of his beloved’s life, but the threatening tone of the note leaves him feeling uneasy. “Call him. Call him back now,” Fischer says to the boy. He stops pacing and turns to look Gui in the eye. “Don’t ask me to leave. At the very least I want to know what he wants. I’m not going to stop you, but I love you too much not to know,” he says, stepping towards Gui and placing his hands on the younger man’s shoulders.

“I’ve already messaged him,” Gui says, showing Fischer the message that has yet to be seen by the other party. He taps Allan’s chin with his finger and kisses his lips, to soothe him.

Fischer leans into the kiss and cups Gui’s jaw, pulling away to look into his eyes. “You should know that if he touches a hair on your head, I won't hesitate to kill him.”

The thought is a lovely one to Gui, just as good as any roses would be for anyone else, honestly. He grins, though he knows Hannibal is cunning and skilled, he won’t burst Fischer’s little bubble, he loves him too much, and will protect him with his own life to never find out. “I know you would.”

Fischer nods, looking around the room. “I don't like that he invaded our space. I know next to nothing about this person. I don't like that you work for him, and I don't want to put your life in danger, but in a few weeks I'm out of here, and I want to take you with me. How are we supposed to manage that if he's fucking pulling shit like this?” Fischer asks. He doesn't like _not_ being in control, it sets him on edge, and he’s very alarmed with this turn of events. He wants Lecter out of their lives. Gui killing for pleasure is one thing; Fischer worships the boy and it excites him. In spite of his job, his love for Gui overrides any misgivings he may have had previously.  

Any killing is a pleasant and gleeful one for Gui. He blinks big blue eyes up at Fischer when he’s done prattling on and on, knowing that he has a point, but Lecter is his creator, his father, in a way. “Have you ever heard of the Chesapeake Ripper?”

Fischer nods. “I’ve heard talk of him, and actually read his file at the prodding of my boss. He thinks there’s a connection between him and...well, you,” he sighs. The Dane is beginning to feel his emotions roiling in him, getting restless and antsy. If Gui is going to go run off to do some job for his fucking master, Fischer decides he needs to go do something with himself, and the ideas are whirring in his head. He sets his jaw obstinately, sitting on the bed.

Gui straddles Fischer’s thighs, arms around his shoulders. “Then you know the ripper is Hannibal Lecter, the creator. We can take him down but we have to be smart.”

“Take him down?” Fischer echoes, hands slipping to the small of Gui's back. From early on, Gui seems to have an uncanny way of reading his mind. “Nothing would make me happier, min skat. I want you to be free of him, rid of him, so we can be together. What did you have in mind?” he asks. If Fischer has his way, he'll go alone, break into his home in the dead of night and tear his throat out. The older man is extremely jealous of this 'creator', and despises him for what he's done to Gui, creating him simply to use for his own whims.  

Gui knows the look of men who want to kill, and he’s right there with him, but they had to do it wisely. “When he won’t suspect it. He’ll know you want him dead, he’ll expect you to come for him. But he’s ghost, you won’t find him. He finds me.” Gui gestures around the room.

Fischer frowns again. “Are you proposing we use you as bait?” Suddenly it dawns on him. “The profile the FBI has built for you. It _is_ Lecter. The prissy letter, cleaning up, what you've told me of him.” Realization washes over Fischer, and his heart pounds with anxiety.

Gui raises his brows, watching Fischer’s honey eyes. “Allan?”

Fischer looks down, wiping a hand over his face. “Yes, Gui?” he replies, looking back up at the boy. He knows he needs to calm down, but he wears his heart on his sleeve, and his impulsivity and hot temper don’t make things any easier. “Yes,” he says finally, in answer to his own thoughts.

“What are you thinking?” the boy asks, wanting to hear Fischer the words, not try to come to conclusions.

“I’m thinking I have a hard time accepting you being in danger and me not being able to do much about it,” Fischer concludes. “I want to protect you. But you don’t really need me for that, do you?” he asks. “How do you really feel about Lecter? Do you…” he stops and can’t continue, looking away from Gui, staring at the clock on the nightstand.

“Do I…?” Gui’s brows furrow and he turns Fischer’s face to look at him again. “Do I love him? Do I want him? Why would you ask me that?” Gui has only ever loved one person. Gui has only ever had the capacity to love himself until Allan. Lecter was his creator, his _father_.

Fischer looks back into the boy’s eyes. “How could I not? Gui, you’re the entire world to me, and I know so little about this person, this monster. He’s made you his slave and I...I love you so much, the thought of losing you is one I can’t bear, min skat. I’m...I’m bound to you, body and soul, my wicked treasure,” the older man exhales, rubbing over the mark on his chest, over his shirt.

Gui shakes his head. “No. Nothing to worry about. He’s… made me, Allan. Nothing else. Did you not obey your parents? When you were young?”

Fischer chuckles. “Wasn’t very obedient, but yes I loved them. Gui…” Fischer pauses, bringing Gui’s knuckles to his lips and kissing each one softly. “Forgive me. I am just so afraid of losing you.” The older man sighs and looks back at the boy curiously. “Are you sure you want to do this? If you think of him as a parent, maybe I’m….I just...Gui he won’t allow me to be in your life. I don’t see any other way but to kill him.”

“Do you kill everyone that doesn’t allow you to be in the lives of the ones you love?” Gui asks, innocently enough. He’s down for the kill, but hasn’t yet let it sink in with what it is he must do.

Fischer laughs again, exhaling much of the tension he’s been holding. “I’ve killed, but not because of that. But then I’ve never loved anyone the way I love you. And, I would,” he says, his face serious, cupping Gui’s young, innocent one in his hands. “You marked me. That’s no joke, Gui.”

“Then we’ll figure it out.” Gui is apprehensive, only because he knows his creator, and knows that killing him won’t be so easy, and that at his own hands, even harder.

“And…” Fischer starts, finally relaxing for the first time since they entered the room, “I still want to watch you. I want to see how you do it. Someone, anyone. I...I hope you will let me, someday,” he whispers, his eyes darkening.

“Of course,” Gui grins, rubbing at Fischer’s shoulders gently, and kisses his lips softly, taking a deep breath. It’s as soft and subtle as Gui gets, honestly. “Anytime. I just want you to be sure you want to see…”

“Perhaps some more practice on me is necessary. To get me in the right frame of mind, of course,” Fischer smirks playfully before sobering again. “I _do_ want to see. I’ve already seen the aftermath, been elbow deep in the bodies. I feel so proud of you with every single one of those sorry bastards we find, my wicked boy.”

The boy grins, and leans into nip at Fischer’s bottom lip and then his chin, his jaw, down to his pulse as the other man speaks. “If the creator gets back to me with another task, maybe I can show you.”

Fischer lays back on the bed, pulling Gui on top of him and kissing him fully, with heated passion. “I miss seeing you with that look in your eyes. The way you looked when you took me. Do you remember, Gui?” Fischer asks, raking his nails up the boy’s sides, through his clothes.

How can Gui forget? He grins and straddles Fischer, leaning over him. “Do you want me to take you again? Slice you open and feed off your blood?” Gui snaps his jaws at Fischer’s chin.

Fischer doesn’t flinch, but tilts his head back even further in an effort to expose his flesh to Gui. The older man breathes a little faster, nostrils flaring, his pulse thrumming and adam’s apple bobbing down the length of his neck in response. “Yes...yes allerkæreste, my love, my life. Take me. Remind me of your beautiful cruelty, what captured and ensnared my heart from the moment I saw you,” he exhales heavily, squeezing the boy’s ass through his trousers.

Gui's eyes flashed hot and dark as he gazes over Fischer, and reaches into the drawer to find the reel of rope there. “Tied to the bed?”

Fischer raises his arms above his head, already submitting, caramel eyes burning with lust. “Yes. Tied to the bed. All yours to do as you want with me.” He bit his lower lip, pushing his hips up against Gui. “Anything…”

“Undress,” Gui commands, slipping off the bed and Allan for a moment, to go to the closet to find the small box of things he’s brought over from his place. Hand on the door, he falters, fingers curling back. Maybe just his knife will do. He turns back around to watch Fischer do as he’s told.

Fischer makes quick work of divesting himself of his clothes, a little rebellious smirk on his lips as he tosses them to the floor of the perfectly clean room. He stares at Gui, feeling himself already half hard as Gui pulls his implements from the closet. The Dane lays back on the bed, fully nude, long legs hanging off the end, waiting.

The closet stays forgotten about as the boy comes back, and finds his knife in the dresser instead. There’s a nagging at the back of his mind, and another quick look to the closet, the boy is crawling back over Fischer, pinning him to the bed to tie him up. He makes quick work of the rope around his wrists, one to each corner, and then ankles, much the same.

Fischer relaxes his limbs, staring in awe at Gui as he secures him to the bed, rendering him helpless. The wicked fire that flashes in the boy’s intense blue eyes arrests the older man’s heart; his dark curls hanging in ringlets against perfectly smooth skin, the only marks on his flesh the ones Fischer himself has bestowed. They truly belong to each other, and in this world of their creation, no one else exists. Fischer’s muscles flex beneath Gui’s hands and he sighs with longing, not saying a word yet, the texture of the air between them changing as Gui takes control, as Fischer gives that up to him and his yearning for the boy’s dominance takes over.

Gui presses and pushes Fischer’s legs apart, enough slack in the rope to prop his knees up a little so the boy can gaze at everything Fischer has lustfully. “All of this is mine,” he says, quietly, raking nails down the back of the older man’s calves.

The older man finds his breath catching in his throat as Gui exposes him, spreading him wide and completely bare. “All yours. Only yours,” Fischer whispers, his pulse racing in anticipation of what wickedness must be going through the boy’s mind. His cock twitches tellingly against his thick, furry thigh.

All too aware of everything in the room, seen and unseen, Gui flicks open the knife and drags the very tip up Fischer’s thigh, drawing a light pink line there, beading blood in it’s wake, which he laps up with his eager tongue. Gui wants to show his love in every way he possibly knows how.

The scratch is light, doesn’t really hurt, just a burn. His eyes center on Gui, and a yearning ache flows through him and settles deep in his belly. Fischer can’t move at all, but he exhales heavily, laying as still as he can for his angel.

Gui digs the tip of the knife in harder, into Fischer’s thigh, into the fleshy muscle there, letting the blood pool as he watches his love's reaction, wanting all his pain. He digs the knife in, and licks the blood into his mouth.

The blade slips with fearful ease past subcutaneous tissue, eliciting a harsh gasp from Fischer. The pain becomes more real, and he locks eyes with the young man. There’s something else behind Gui’s gaze, something so utterly intense, and the only thing the older man can register out of the expression is love. This is how he loves, and Fischer’s heart aches for how much it means to him. His lips part to the boy’s tongue, the taste of his own blood fresh and reminding him of what he craves from Gui.  

Pressing in on the knife, Gui pushes it in further, over Allan as he shares the taste of metallic between them both, and bites his lip to bring more to be shared between them. Gui punishes with pain and feeds off it, but he loves with it as well, all different, and yet all _perfect_. Only Allan receives his real love.

The older man hisses from the increased pressure in the wound, sticky, warm plasma dripping down his side; he can only feel the sharp burn and hot fluid. With anyone else, he would have never allowed it to come to this point, would’ve had the boy subdued and bound himself, but there is simply no one he wants to relinquish his control to more than his beloved Gui. Sweat begins to form on his brow, his respiration increasing. “Gui…” he whispers against the boy’s lips, stained crimson.

It’s a grand thing that Gui is trained and honed in most of the medical arts his creator is, or at least enough that he can successfully repair most damage he causes his beloved. The knife is shoved in further, into bone until it resists and will go no further, and Gui crawls up Allan’s body as he shimmies out of his pants and shirt, and slides against the tacky swell of blood, smearing it against his pale skin.

Fischer feels his vision go white from the now incredibly intense pain, and yet his dick is still rock hard, pushing insistently into the deceptively soft body atop him. He looks down through wet eyes at Gui, pale skin streaked in his own blood. His breath is coming in shallow; any deeper and the agony begins to make him feel faint. In the darkest corners of his mind he can't comprehend how or why he is so aroused by this, all the synapses in his brain screaming at him to stop and yet he can't. “Take me apart and come inside me, my treasure,” he whispers finally, the first words he's said in what feels like an eternity.

Smaller hands slide against bloody hips as Gui tugs the ropes loose at the ankles, and pushes Fischer’s knees up. He bend and bites the older man’s hip, drawing blood from that side too as he pulls the knife out, letting blood seep down onto the bed, slowly. Gui pushes bloody fingers into Fischer’s perfect mouth as he trails his hot tongue down his stomach to his groin, and noses in against the thicket of pubic hair, growling.

The bound man uses the only thing he can, his mouth, to show Gui his passion. He sucks the boy's fingers hungrily, scraping his teeth along the skin, eager to taste his own blood as drawn by his beautiful boy. Fischer can feel it soaking into the bedding around him, but he's not even concerned about his well being. He's long ago left that head space and now, as endorphins and opioids flood his brain in response to the wounds, he's simply high, detached from his body and keening under Gui's hands.   

Petting Fischer’s tongue with two bloody fingers, Gui coats them with Allan’s saliva as he brushes his nose against his cock, taking it into his mouth, lapping up the pre-come slowly. He pulls his fingers out and works them in against the other man’s sweet pucker, gently at first, working him open one finger at a time.

As Gui's wet fingers begin teasing him open, Fischer inhales sharply and rapidly re-enters his body, the new sensation bringing him to the present. He remembers with sharp acuity that night in Gui's apartment, experiencing something he never had before with him. His cock fills slowly as he looks down and sees himself, streaked in red, this angelic looking boy between his spread thighs, holding up his balls and pushing his fingers in. “Gui. Min elskede, yes, please,” he whispers.    

The boy is as wicked as they come, but even he had his own wants. The screams of terror are one of them, but from Fischer he prefers the diligent echo of panted breaths and sighs, the easy moan of his name as the high of pain and pleasure filter together. Blissfully aware of Allan's need, Gui shoulders his thighs up and apart more, slipping down to curve his tongue against his entrance, wetting and pushing two fingers all the way, curling against sensitive nerves.

Fischer finally does cry out, his voice sounding weaker and more ragged than he’d have liked. It sounds like a pained bleat, the pleasure shooting through him a stark contrast to the pain and yet blending exquisitely. His hips jerk up involuntarily, trying to find friction, anything to relieve the ache between his legs. His wrists strain against the ropes, beginning to leave red welts as the rough fibers cut against him. In truth, it’s utterly perfect, it everything he’s always wanted but never knew he needed.

Aware that he could very well harm Fischer in ways the man will never recover from, Gui is keeping a honed ear on his lover’s voice and and breathing, and for now is taking his time to tear him apart with pleasure more than malice, not wanting to see his future bleed to death in a hotel bed. Gui spread Fischer’s ass and licks from pucker to balls once and then inside of him, stretching him open, over and over until he is satisfied. “Should I fuck you now?”

Fischer writhes beneath the boy, his gasps punctuating the space between them. He’s too far gone, deeply entwined in the intensity of their shared sin, and begs Gui in a deep, broken whisper. “Please, please Gui, yes. Please...”

Reaching for the lube in the nightstands, the boy rolls up to his knees and pushes Fischer’s into his chest further, the blood seeping from his hip gushing out as he does. Gui will stitch that later. He slathers the liquid over his own cock and then presses more into Fischer’s aching hole. He waits no further and plunges his cock deep inside, eyes dark with imminent lust.

The air rushes from Fischer's lungs as Gui folds his knees into his chest and he feels more blood drain from his hip. If he'd nicked even an inch to one side, he'd have hit his femoral artery, and that thought passes through the Dane's mind as he looks at his angel. It doesn't even matter anymore, he thinks to himself, because he knows he's given everything over to Gui. As Gui sinks fully into his twitching hole, he groans incoherently, wanting nothing more than his treasured boy buried deep inside him, needing to feel that fullness again.

To the hilt Gui plunges and then whips his hips back again, down into his Fischer’s shaking body, hands slipping in his blood and sweat, the bed is filled with it now, but the boy just grins ruefully. Bloodlust has taken over and he’s driving his cock into Fischer with unrelenting speed and vigor.

Gui is hitting his sweet gland deep inside on every stroke, and Fischer's strength seems to return with the shock of electricity that shoots from his spine at the contact. He longs to touch Gui, to seize him and take him, but in this moment there's nothing he would trade for this exquisite pleasure. “Gui...Gui fuck me, harder, harder,” he begs, his voice not even sounding like his own anymore, raw with nothing but want. He feels full, battered over and over unrelentingly, absorbing the pounding helplessly.  

Gui goes at it, over and over fucking Fischer as hard and and as fast as his lithe body will allow him, dark curls matte down to his head, soft strands wet. “Good?”

The older man arches up into Gui, pulling powerful thighs back further to get him at just the right angle. “For helvede, min skat yes, fucking yes, so good, you fill me so fucking good,” Fischer rasps. His thick cock slaps against his belly repeatedly with every exquisite thrust of Gui's slender hips.

With relentless grace, Gui pistons faster and faster, hands on Fischer’s shoulders, pulling him down over his cock as they fucked, as he took the older man, tied and bound, and nonetheless willing. “Fuck, Allan-”

Gui's frantic fucking and his weight bearing down on Fischer finally drives him to the edge, where he suspends for an eternity on the cusp of ecstasy. He emits a powerful, deep howl, and his cock throbs, endlessly pulsing out his release as his length bobs heavily, splashing their chests and stomachs with his sticky come. “Gui...Gui...my Gui, mine, my beauty, wicked beauty, all mine,” he exhales, gasping for air desperately as his climax tremors through him.  

Gui presses his fingers into Allan’s wound and scrapes down his chest over the older, claiming scars, bucking his hips into him with unabided ecstasy. The boy throws his head back with a growl, long curls flitting down his shoulders there as he does, and comes just after Allan, spilling into his taut, hot body, viciously.

Fischer pulls at the ropes desperately, his hands wanting the boy, wanting to feel creamy soft skin beneath his rough hands, but he falters as they are held back. All he can do is lay there, covered in their blood, come and sweat, staring through long strands of brown hair at the boy, his eyes ablaze. “I love you always, Guillaume, until the day I die,” he whispered.   

Picking up the knife once more, Gui’s heart swells, making it almost hard to breathe. Allan makes him feel vivacious and dangerous at once, and claiming him with more scars, with more forever imprints on his perfect skin is all the boy can think to do. “I love you, Allan Fischer.” His gaze bores into the other man as he presses the knife down into his other hip, blood spilling rapidly this time.

Fischer cries out in pain, though it comes out as more of a whimper. Without the benefit of his arousal, it cuts through to his thalamus like fire. Still, he stops struggling, seeing the look in Gui's eyes as raw, undiluted emotion that rips into the center of the wound on his chest. It's earth-shattering, the love in his beauty's face, and Fischer gives him everything he has, as much as he can, his own orbs mirroring the powerful conveyance. Weakly, he whispers, “Jeg elsker dig mere end jeg nogensinde vil være i stand til at fortælle dig.” _(“I love you more than I’ll ever be able to tell you.”)_

Blood pours from the other side of Fischer’s hip, around the knife, and over the bed and sheets, and the lustful, love struck gaze of Gui’s is gone when he realizes he’s misplaced his mark, and everything is turning crimson quick. Taking the blade out, he tosses it aside, and looks for something, anything, to stop the blood. “Allan… I…”

Fischer's breathing becomes shallow, and he feels his face turning numb, his vision darkening at the corners like a shade being pulled down. His mouth forms words that don't produce sound, as weakness and shock begin to take over. The older man's hands, previously straining at his bounds, fall limp above his head, and his mouth hangs open slightly as respiration is now harder and harder.

Larger hands, like Fischer’s, stop Gui where he sits, and move him out of the way, gently, not forcefully. “Guillaume, retrieve my kit from the Bentley, quickly. No hesitating,” a deep voice says, and the boy is off, clothes snatched on quickly, and the pattering of feet taking him as fast as he can go.

Only a moment later does the door open again, and shut, locking behind itself. Then, seconds later, skillful hands are working on Fischer. “Clean towels, Guillaume, please. Heat your knife and bring it here.” Everything is done so quickly, tugs of string pulled through the artery in Fischer’s leg, patching him up the best that is available without having to take him to the hospital.

“Now, listen to me carefully, Guillaume,” the man says, his voice lilted with a Lithuanian accent, thick and deep, “you will need to gather these things I’ve written down for you from the local hospital. You mustn't be seen.”

The boy takes the list that is scrawled out for him, and stuffs it into his pocket, and grabs Fischer’s keys from his jacket on the floor. “You’re not… going to kill him?”

The Creator looks over at Gui, fondness etched into the lines wrinkled at his almond shaped eyes. “No. Not unless his condition worsens because of your tardiness.”

Taking the hint, Gui slips out and is gone, leaving the Creator and Allan alone, nearly identical in looks, but sufficiently different enough to be  told apart. The older of the two men hums, and folds his jacket over a chair and begins to clean the mess up around Fischer, cutting his arms down, he lays a towel over his hips. He then goes and washes up, cleaning his tools in hot water until he can sterilize them again later. Convinced they’re clean enough, the Creator moves and opens a syringe from his bag, a pain killer, something to ease the wavering tides of it coming for Fischer soon enough. He expertly fits it into his vein, injecting him slowly.

“There we are, Agent Fischer…Give that a moment.”

The Dane's consciousness fluttered in and out with a vague awareness of another presence tending to him, but he lacked the strength to open his eyes. He heard a thickly accented voice whisper to him before all the pain slid away and he became enveloped in a warm, pleasant darkness and blissful sleep.

***

Fischer gets hooked to an IV bag of blood, and another of fluids, just in case. He’s covered in clean sheets,the room smelling of bleach and disinfectants. Gui sits at his side as a larger figure looms over them, ever watchful of the agent’s vitals.

“You were reckless, Guillaume,” Lecter states, his tone is chiding but careful, calculated. “What if I had not been here?”

“I know enough, I could have--” the starts to explain, but he knows that even with all his knowledge, he’s not learned everything. He presumes his skills are far better than they are.

“Could have… _what_?” Lecter lets out a soft sigh and squats down to Gui’s level, even lower, looking up at him fondly, one might think even fatherly. “You are my very gifted boy. Your happiness has taken me by surprise. If the agent is what you wish to have, if he is what you love, then perhaps we should work toward making him worthy of you.”

Confused, Gui stares at his Creator, as though he’s a stranger and not the man who made him. The creator is harsh, hurting man, who wants nothing but revenge, not… this. Even still, Gui can see the anguish there, still unrelenting, still burning away at the older man’s heart. “Why would you?”

“So that one of us in this lifetime can find happiness. I will never find mine, no matter what we do,” Lecter explains, softly, and touches the boy’s cheek softly with one palm before standing. “You’re lucky you hadn’t done worse. Only yourself to blame if he died.”

Gui swallows, deep blue eyes casted down at his own hands, clean now, but so bloody earlier, drenched in Fischer’s blood. “Were you here? In the closet?”

“Yes. I had to see for myself what was keeping you so occupied.”

Bathed in darkness, the agent gradually becomes aware of the quiet conversation. He opens his eyes, everything blurry for a moment, the dark shape of two people by the bedside, back-lit by the light from the lamp in the corner. The forms come into focus; his beloved and an older man, with an appearance that... _Am I hallucinating?_ he wonders, as his heart is gripped in panic and confusion. The face is frighteningly similar to his own, a man that resembles him to a stunning degree. Too shocked by the older man, he cannot yet find his voice to speak.

Lecter checks his watch, and looks at Gui. “Administer another round of antibiotics and pain relief in an hour.”

“You’re leaving?” Gui scrambles to his feet, clearly shaken to be left alone with Fischer without knowing how to properly care for him. The scare has cracked his confidence just enough.

“I must go look into other matters, Guillaume,” Lecter said and brushed the back of his knuckles over the boy’s cheek-- he is young and reckless, but just a cunning as his Will. Lecter won’t see this one die under his hand too. “Now, when he’s conscious for over five hours, you will know he’s out of danger. Understood?”

Gui nods.

“Good boy. I’ll send you instructions soon.” Lecter leaves, bag in hand, closing the door behind him.

It almost becomes too much for the man as he realizes in his dimly aware state that it's Lecter. Still, a hoarse whisper finally spills out, voice raw from his injuries. “Who...?” he asks as he watches the tall man graze his love's cheek and leave swiftly. A flame of jealousy is lit in his belly, but he's too weak to maintain it for long, staring vacantly at Gui.

Gui locks the door quickly and slips to Fischer’s side, checking him over before he places a chaste kiss to his cheekbone. “The Creator. He saved you.”

Fischer looks up at Gui, and just as he is slipping yet again into unconsciousness, asks, “Why?” His eyes fall closed before he can hear his angel's answer.

***

The Dane's rest is deep, but plagued with nightmares, visions he can't see clearly enough to make out. He sees his beloved in peril and can do nothing to save him, and just as he’s about to give up hope, a tidal wave of blood washes over them both, rescuing Gui from his unseen torment and filling the older man with superhuman strength. He watches himself rise and seize the villain by his head, snapping his neck soundly with a simple twist. Bone crunches loudly, resonating in his mind, and he feels darkness fill him from the inside out, spilling from his hands like viscous rivulets of black ink and smoke.  

***

Day three, Gui had to go out to find food, wary to leave Fischer on his own, but he was back quickly, and had texted Agent Crawford a few times to let him know Allan was ill with the flu and would be in in a few days. Now, Gui stands in the kitchen, setting a tea kettle on and looking over the text from Hannibal:

_Agent Crawford is nuisance. Killing him will give your beloved meaning, and freedom to return home, where I believe he will find himself more apt to spread his wings than in a foreign country. Keep a close eye on him, Guillaume. Whatever darkness you see, whatever I do, please be aware it is only for your sake that I do them._

_-H.L._

Fischer stirs, a comforting smell rousing him, and he slowly opens his eyes and lifts his head, looking around disoriented. “Gui?” he calls out, his bleary eyes settling on the handsome young man, busying himself in the small kitchenette. “Gui, what happened?”

Gui sets the phone down and brings over a cup of tea for Fischer, setting it on the bedside table, and then helps him sit up, the wound in his hip already healing up nicely. “I… miscalculated myself. You’re okay now.”

The older man comes back to himself groggily, looking down at the dressings on his hips. He remembers their rough coupling, being restrained, the knife, and Lecter sewing him up. “Why does...why does he look so much like me? Was I imagining that?” he asks, trying to make sense of things. He looks at Gui, and tried to stand but is still unsteady and lands back on the bed heavily.  

“Don’t move,” Gui says, hand on Fischer’s chest, more careful than he would normally be, but the event had scared some long overdue sense into the boy, at least for now. “He…marks a resemblance to you, but he’s older.”

Fischer feels a deep sense of comfort at his love's touch on his chest, and he wraps his fingers around the paler, smoother hand. “He helped me. I...I thought him to be a faceless enemy. Why wouldn't he kill me, Gui? I can't imagine he wants me to be with you. Not if he knows who I am, what we are to each other.”

“He likes challenges. You’re a challenge, not one that deserves death at the hands of an accident,” Gui explains, just as Lecter told him to in the last few messages received. He pets down Allan’s chest.

Fischer's mind swirls with thoughts of all the events that brought him here. Meeting Gui, falling in love, and now this. His burgeoning desire for blood and violence still roils beneath the surface, clashing perilously with his conscience, with that part of him that is still a cop. His focus sharper now as the fog dissipates, he looks up at Gui and pulls the boy's hand to his lips, brushing over his pulse languidly. “What does he want from me...from us?” he asks quietly.

“For me to finish my work,” Gui says, unable to tell anymore than that, because he knows Fischer will disagree, and the moment of surprise is best. People tend to not fight back as much if they didn’t know what’s happening.

Fischer nods in resignation. Gui is always somewhat vague and defensive about the man, but the Dane tries to conceal his jealousy. It's quelled by the fact that the doctor had saved his life. Why he's keeping him alive, the agent still doesn't know. “He has more targets for you to...dispatch, of course. I wonder who?” Fischer runs his thumb over Gui's bottom lip lovingly. Even if this is the worst possible situation he can find himself in, he cannot be swayed from his devotion.

“I would tell you, but I can’t,” Gui says with a sigh, and bites Fischer’s thumb gently, and then crawls into bed with him, carefully.

Fischer hums wordlessly and shifts to try and embrace his beloved. He winces slightly, still sore; the wound is much improved, but not quite completely healed. Realizing he’ll have to remain flat on his back for the moment, he turns his head to kiss the boy’s curls. “We’ll have to take it easy with certain activities for a few more days,” he grumbles with a sad smile.

“I know,” Gui replies quietly, hooking a leg over Fischer’s good hip, the one he didn’t manage to mangle. “It’s been a few days anyway, you’ve been out.”

“You know I love you, right?” Fischer asks Gui softly, stroking his cheek. “I don't blame you for this, min skat.”

Gui stuffs his face against Fischer’s neck, like a little child, and nods his head, but swallows down the thick ache chest that dares to reach his throat. He’s never felt so much remorse before-- in fact he’s never felt it at all. The feeling is _not_ comforting.

“Gui, I asked you to give me this gift and you did, you've given me more than I could ever hope for,” Fischer whispers against the boy's downy head. “There's absolutely nothing that could change that. It wasn't on purpose, my love. I trust you with my life, and yours is one I would defend to my death.”

“I almost killed you,” Gui whispers, pressing his nose in tight against Allan’s neck, arm around his chest. He knows if the Creator were here, he’d be scolded for his behavior, but Gui just wants time to let his actions soak in, so they don’t happen again.

“If I had to go, I'd want it to be by you. You already own me body and soul,” Fischer sighs, meaning every word. “But we'll just be more careful from here on out right? I don't _want_ to be careful, but I guess I _am_ mortal,” he jokes, laughing lightly against the boy's face and pulling him up to look at him. His heart breaks at the sadness there. “Gui...” the agent says, pulling him close again, gingerly keeping weight off his hip.

“I just have to be careful. You’re fine, Allan,” Gui says, quietly, resting his head against Allan’s cheek softly, hand on his chest, watching it rise and fall.

Fischer holds Gui close. “I love you, Allerkæreste,” he finally says, closing his eyes and letting sleep overtake him. He still has some healing to do.   


	7. Chapter 7

Fischer has been out of work nearly a week, and Jack finally calls him again after the fourth day passes. No new bodies have surfaced, but Jack’s bosses are growing anxious for answers, particularly in light of the latest victims being fellow FBI agents. 

The Dane goes back, reluctant to leave his angel, but knowing he must. His one goal is getting through the next few weeks so he can take Gui home. It’s all he can think of-- that and Lecter.   

***

While Fischer goes back, Gui makes his plans, all he has to do is track Fischer, who is with Crawford most of the time. Getting the Head Agent alone would be another task. Gui spends his days following them, learning behaviors and patterns, until on the fifth night when he follows Crawford home, a private house, well secured. But Gui, he has a plan.

Sending Fischer a message that he’ll be a bit late, the boy slips into the secured parking garage just as Crawford lowers the door, surpassing any of the alarms as he goes, keeping to the shadows. He slips inside after the man, watching him disarm, his shoulder holster left on a table by the kitchen, in the hall, and the man goes for a drink from the small bar.

Grabbing an ice pick from nearby, with a gloved hand, Gui goes in for the kill, but the man is faster than he looks and had the boy by the throat before he can even touch him with the pick.

However, Crawford’s upper hand falters on seeing the boy, his resemblance to Will Graham, everything makes him still, frozen on the spot. “How…”

Gui lifts his chin in defiance, as if daring the man to choke him. “Just kill me…”

Crawford’s hand shakes and it’s just enough for Gui to get his arm in there and stab the ice pick up through his chin, into his skull, hands letting go of the boy completely. Bloods spurts as the man tries to get the pick out, but Gui has his knife, and wrenches it into his skull, not letting this one suffer, he’s suffered enough just seeing Gui’s face.

The boy leaves him to be found by his team, no trace of himself or that it was him. He heads home, back to their shared room in the hotel, and sneaks in, it’s late and he hopes Fischer hasn’t thought he’s left him again.

“Fischer?”  _ Nothing. _

***

Fischer is in the lab with the science team far past quitting time, when he looks at his watch and sighs. Crawford left hours ago, and the Dane is tired and cranky. He calls it a night and goes back to the hotel.  The entire drive back, his mind is awash in thoughts of his Gui and Lecter. He's grateful to the man for saving his life, and he knows how important he is to his angel. Fischer wouldn't even have met the love of his heart were it not for the doctor. He wants Gui free of him for selfish reasons; it's too complicated having him in their lives, with all his demands on Gui, and he can't imagine Lecter would ever let the boy leave the country.

He looks at the clock on the dash and realizes just how late it is. He pulls into the hotel, hoping Gui hasn’t been up worried. The lights are on in the room, the drapes are closed though, illuminating just a bit of the window. The room, when Fischer gets to the door, and opens it, is turned upside down, the boy has a temper, a jealous, raging one. Fischer's mouth opens in shock, and he sees the condition of the room before he sees Gui. “What the fuck...” he thinks, not saying a word aloud, pulling his side arm out immediately.

High on bloodlust, Gui is flying, rage rolling through him until he sees Fischer, standing there. Shaking, Gui stops, hands covered in blood from tearing things apart with his bare hands. “Fischer…”

Fischer lowers the weapon, his face falling when he sees his angel. He holsters it and closes the distance between them quickly. “What happened? Are you hurt?” he asks, pulling Gui's crimson stained hands up to look at him more carefully.

“I thought you left,” Gui says, swallowing down his pride a little with that, gripping his blood stained hands into Fischer’s shirt.

The Dane shakes his head and wraps his hand around the back of Gui's neck, pulling their foreheads together. ”I'm not leaving you, ever, unless you want me to, min skat,” he whispers. 

Gui sighs heavily, swallowing. “Sorry. I’m-” He can’t even finish, in tears, gripping Fischer’s shirt.

His arms slip around the boy, cradling him close by his slim waist. With one hand he pulls his jaw up, not caring about the blood; they've had worse messes between them. “Darling, what? You can tell me. I just want...I want you to be happy. You are my entire world, Gui,” he confesses, the emotion from his angel digging into his heart. He rubs the tears away with a callus thumb and leans in to kiss his cheek gently, brushing the wetness away with soft lips.  

“I worried,” Gui whispers and holds Fischer against him, nestling his face into the crook of his neck. “Are… are you okay?”

“Now that I know that you're here, and safe, yes,” Fischer answers, brushing the back of his hand over Gui's flushed cheek.

At that moment, his phone buzzes in his pocket. He pulls it out and his face pales as he reads a text sent to him. He looks up at Gui in shock. “You did it, then,” he says finally. He's not upset, simply stunned.

Gui takes a step back, gauging Allan carefully. “The last task.”

Fischer steps forward, reconnecting the distance quickly. "I'm proud of you. I'm not upset, just amazed. Jack is...was...formidable. He was a pain in my ass, and I can't say that I wanted him dead. I'm not upset that he's gone. So Hannibal asked you to do this?"

“Crawford has been on his ass for a while,” Gui explains, his eyes never leaving Fischer’s.

“In truth, Hannibal fits the profile he's built. I wasn't aware they knew each other,” Fischer said, taking Gui's hand to guide him to sit on the bed.

“Remember I told you about Will Graham, the man I’m cloned from? Hannibal was in love with him. They both worked for Jack Crawford years ago,” Gui explained, taking a seat.

Fischer swallows hard at the revelation. “In love. Were you supposed to be...some kind of replacement?” He's already struggling with his conflicted feelings about the doctor, waffling between jealousy he can't seem to control, but grateful that he saved his life. He picks up Gui’s hand to hold it, watching him carefully.

Gui shakes his hand and tugs Fischer closer. “No. He made me to be wrath that Graham was, and would always be, to him. He made me to take out the people responsible. The FBI.”

“The people that took his Will away from him,” Fischer says, wrapping Gui in an embrace. “I can’t say I blame him, though creating a clone is something beyond my imagination. He must be in a lot of pain to have gone through all this to avenge his loss. But I’m glad he did,” the older man says.

Gui knew well enough that the Creator was hurting, even still, and it was the reason he’d told Gui to do all of this at all, for Allan Fischer, for them both. The boy curls against Fischer, and nuzzled his neck. “He is, but he won’t be for too much longer.”

“I won't ask you to do anything you can't, you know that right?” the older man asks, kissing Gui's forehead tenderly. He brings his hand up to his chest. “I only want to take you home, make a life with you.” He runs out of words to express his feelings, and turns Gui's chin towards him to kiss his mouth deeply, the ache in his chest too much to bear. “Keep you happy, the way you want to be happy...I have....there are people you can work on back home, you know.” He thinks of the low-life scum back in Denmark, pedophiles and rapists, people who justice has failed to punish at all.

“Take me home with you,” Gui says, kissing Fischer again and again. “Nothing is keeping you here now.”

“Have you...have you completed your tasks for Lecter? Would he allow you to go now?” Fisher asks the boy, his hands wandering over the long, lean lines of his body.

“Yes and no, but I want to go, and we should,” Gui says, definitively, well aware of the tasks ahead of him, the deception it will take, but it’s all for Allan-- every bit of it.

Fischer nods, his heart beating faster at the idea of finally taking his love home, of them being able to be free of both Lecter and the FBI. “Perhaps if they think the ‘killer’ is targeting us, they will want me to go early. I won’t suggest it, but I suspect that’s what will happen. Crawford was already talking about it. He was worried about his team since they are dropping like flies. We may be able to sooner than we thought.”  

“They will,” Gui promises, as it’s what he’s planned for, after all. “I’ll pack while you go to take care of things with Jack…”

It’s always the job getting in the way of his Gui-time.  _ Well soon it will be over _ , the Dane thinks to himself. “I’ll be back as soon as I can, min skat,” Fischer says, reluctantly rolling Gui to his side and getting up.

“Wait!” Gui says, getting to his feet and throws his arms around Fischer’s shoulders and hugs him, kissing him passionately on the mouth. “Don’t ever leave me without that.”

The sweet, impulsive gesture is so utterly charming, so beautiful, just like his wicked angel. Fischer tangles his thick fingers in Gui's curls, pulling him in close and suckling his bottom lip between his teeth. “Never,” he says breathlessly. “Never without that.”

“Good,” Gui sighs, watching Fischer up closer. It was just in case…

Fischer retrieves his keys and turns once more to look at Gui. “Be ready, love. As soon as I know for sure, we’ll leave.” He pulls the door open and heads to the Altima, his heart racing.

Gui stands there watching Fischer, knowing the rest to come was going to be hard, it would hurt, but the result would be beautiful. He just had to remind himself. They only have hours, if that, so Gui gets packing, all their things into suit cases and bags, emptying the room of anything is theirs. Then he remembers his jars, hidden away with his trinkets.

No time for those. He sends the Creator a message to get rid of them if possible.

***

Work is in chaos as the agents that remain struggle with their grief. Jack’s boss, Kade Purnell, comes in to take over the department, and brings in a new crew of people to investigate the incredibly violent murder. She calls a meeting with the trainees and agents. 

As Fischer enters with his coffee, the room is loud with the din of conversation and tears. The tall blonde woman strides confidently to the front of the room and calls them to order. A hush falls over the room.

“Good morning. As you all know, Jack Crawford was found brutally murdered in his home last night. What I’m about to tell you is confidential and does not leave this room,” she says, pausing as whispers can be heard. “Please stay with me, folks. Based on evidence at the crime scene, we believe the killer to be the same one that’s been leaving bodies all over the city. The Chesapeake Ripper.” Gasps ripple across the room as her words sink in. “We believe the ripper is targeting our class of trainees and our Behavioral Science Unit. In the past few weeks, the killer seems to have shifted focus from random civilians to many of our best agents. The death of Jack has driven this home.”

Fischer leans against the back wall, sipping his coffee and listening quietly. In his mind all he can think of is his beloved at the hotel, his heart racing.

“In order to protect you, we have made the decision to send all foreign and out-of-state agents home. Since you’ve already completed the bulk of your course work, we’ve contacted your home bases, and advised them you’ve all effectively passed the FBI training program. Yes, you’re getting rubber-stamped. I reviewed Jack’s records prior to making this call, and feel confident you will all move forward successfully with the tools you’ve acquired here. Our main concern is stemming the tide of this situation, and securing the safety of those of you who’ve journeyed here from outside agencies. All of your travel plans have been arranged under assumed names to protect your identities. Please pick up your itineraries on your way out today.” Kade stops, sighing heavily and clearing her throat.

“Unfortunately due to the ongoing investigation, we won’t be hosting the funeral likely for some weeks. I know we would like to have some kind of memorial to provide closure for all of us, but sadly there’s been no time to coordinate that. Our biggest worry right now is getting you home safe.” The slender woman paces the floor, making eye contact with several of the agents, including Fischer. “Thank you sincerely for all of your work these past few weeks. Jack spoke highly of many of you. I know he was a tough boss, but I was tougher on him, and you know what they say, shit rolls downhill,” a few quiet chuckles echo in the room. “You’re dismissed. Get home safe.”

Fischer tosses the remains of his coffee in the trash and cleans his locker of the scant few items he’s kept there; as he’s leaving, the agent picks up his itinerary and flight information. He makes another quick stop in the evidence locker, quietly and easily slipping in and out unseen. The minute he’s alone in the car, Fischer dials the airline to purchase a second ticket. Luckily, he’s able to get the additional seat with no hassle. He drives back to the hotel for what will be the last time, his mind awhirl with memories of everything he’s experienced the last few weeks. He’s full of adrenaline, compartmentalizing his emotions to concentrate on the task ahead- getting Gui and himself out of the country and at long last, home.

***

Gui has everything done, it’s all packed away and he’s by the door excited when he hears Fischer pull up, his big blue eyes bright. He’s never been on a plane; he’s never even left the city. The Creator has offered to take care of Gui’s hearts, or so he says, and Gui takes his word for it.

“Can we go?” Gui asks, the bags by the door.

Fischer takes one last look at the room where it all began, and wraps his arms around Gui, capturing his gaze before planting a kiss on his cherry lips. “Yes, min skat, let's go home.”

Anywhere Fischer went was home to the boy, and he was glad to go with him. He grabs their bags. “Help me get these to the car.”

Fischer pauses and takes a look at Gui. “There are some things we can’t take on the plane. You have to give the bags to them to ‘check’ the luggage; they take it and put it in another compartment…” he doesn’t even know where to begin explaining what can’t be packed. “Your uh, knives, those would have to be ‘checked’...The other things will be alright.” He grins and picks up the bags, tossing them in the trunk.

“Checked?” Gui asks, holding the duffle with his things in it tightly in one hand. “But they’re mine.”

“It's a security thing.” Fischer ponders telling Gui about people hijacking airplanes and quickly thought better of it. Best not to give him ideas. “It's still yours. They put your name on it and it goes on the plane with us. I'll show you and...you have your 'passport', right?” he asked. He opened the passenger door for Gui as he always had, closing the door and rounding the car to take his own seat. 

The boy waits for Fischer and then looks at him, and innocence about him that never seems to fade. “Yes. I have it.” He sighs. “So I can't have it with me?”

Fischer starts the car and begins to drive, checking Gui for his seatbelt out of habit now. “Can’t take knives in the cabin of the plane, love. They’ll have to go in our luggage that gets put in the cargo part of the plane. Don’t worry. I’ll make sure they’re safe. Whatever you can’t bring, we’ll get you at home.” He paused, looking over at the boy. “What about your...apartment? Anything we need to get?”

Gui shakes his head slowly, sadly almost, but he has to trust his Creator has taken care of his trinkets. “No, it’s taken care of.”

After some time driving, the silence between them simply born from the comfort they have with one another, Fischer finally arrives at the rental car lot by the airport. Gui gets out and grabs their things, dragging them along and stuffing get his knives from his pants into the outside pockets. Fischer watches him with a smile and retrieves the rest of their bags, leading the way into the airport.

Remarkably, they manage to get through security with no snafus. Fischer had to admit, he is shocked, but he plays it cool and isn’t going to question it.

They board, and he makes sure Gui gets a window seat so he can fully enjoy the experience. A stewardess hands them each blankets, pillows, and headphones, and soon the plane is full. Fortunately, their only seat mate is an elderly man who appears to be quite deaf; Fischer can’t help but think that it’s rather lucky for them.

Gui sits with his hands and face plastered to the window, like a little toddler looking for the first time, even if they hadn’t even left the tarmac yet, coasting for now as they wait their turn to take off. Gui looks back at the engines, eyes wide. Someone could definitely die horribly from hitting one of those. Messy, bloody, terrible, and perfect.

The Dane places a large, warm hand on Gui’s thigh, rubbing gently. The excitement in his bright blue eyes touches him, highlighting again just how young he really is. The boy looks over at Fischer, reluctant to tear his eyes away from the scene, and the scenes going on behind his eyes, inside his head.

“We could all die in here.”

Fischer can’t help himself from laughing. “Do you have any idea how much I love you, min skat? Yes, we could. I should tell you, though...oh Gui…” he looked around, already very glad the man beside them is hard of hearing. “You can’t say things like that on these things, Gui. It makes people nervous and they could kick us off.”

The boy scowls, snarling almost at the thought. Everyone seemed to want to censor him some way or another. Don’t they know how to have fun? He huffs. “What’s new...”

"What’s new? A few things I can think of, once we’re in the air. But, it’s a surprise,” he says, placing his finger over his lips in a “shh” motion.

Gui didn’t mean literally, but now Allan has his interest piqued, and he raised a brow over at him questioning. “When  _ will _ we get in the air, Allan?”

As if on cue, the stewards at the head of the cabin began giving the emergency instructions, showing how the seatbelts work, explaining the seat cushion life preservers and the masks that will drop if the cabin loses pressure. “Soon.”

Gui’s eyes light up at the mention of emergencies and takes note of everything he would need, and Allan too, but no one else. “Good.”

Minutes later they are pushed back against their seats by gravity, the plane lifting off the ground and pressing skyward. Of course, Fischer is sure Gui is imagining them plummeting to the ground, and the thought spreads a perverse joy through him. He looks past the boy out the window to observe the sharp slant of the horizon as they climb higher and higher.

Holding to the seat fast as they rise, Gui’s eyes show only pure joy, the exotic thrill of something new, something so dangerous, and yet no one thinks of the downfall around them. He reaches for Fischer’s hand. “How exciting if we caught fire now,” he whispers, carefully.

Fischer pulls Gui's hand to his mouth in a lingering kiss, brushing his lips against the boy's palm and lapping the pads of slender fingertips to his tongue. “It could happen,” he says in a hushed tone.

Gui shivers and looks at Fischer with lust blown eyes, dark and precarious. “Fischer….Allan.”

A pulse of desire shoots down to his groin when Gui looks at him like -that-. The “fasten seatbelt” sign is still lit, but he unfolds the blankets they were given and lays one over each of their laps. He winks and looks down shyly for a moment. “In case you're cold,” he says softly, darting a look to the old man in the seat next to him. He's already wearing a sleep mask and snoring away.

Gui cants his head at Fischer, hardly cold, but his unwavering hand on his thigh is more than enough to alert him to his boyfriend’s coy and mischievous behavior. “I was…”

Fischer brushes his lips over Gui's neck, nosing into his soft curls and inhaling deeply. His hand slips between Gui's legs, gently pulling them open and rubbing over his bulge. “I've missed you, Gui. We haven’t....since the little incident,” he whispers, exhaling hot breath on Gui's skin at his pause.  

Gui had been afraid to hurt Fischer again, but now he has nothing of violence on him, and all fears washed away with the way Fischer’s hot breath plays across his sensitive skin. “Fischer…”

The Dane cups his hand around Gui’s growing arousal, squeezing and scraping his sharp teeth over his jugular. “Yes, min skat? What is it?”

The plane climbs in the air as Gui’s erection grows in Fischer’s hand, the boy gasping to hide the groan he means to let out. He wets his bottom lip with a pointed look at Allan. “Here?”

Fischer’s breath come out shakier than he intended, realizing quickly that he urgently needs Gui, even more than he ever has before. “The...uhhh...the restroom…” he whispers, a low growl rumbling from deep in his throat. “As soon as the seatbelt light goes off. You go first, then I’ll come...in…” he says, licking up the side of Gui’s neck all the way to his ear lobe.

The boy shivers, eyes closing for a moment. He grips Fischer’s thigh tightly. “When is that?” He looks at the light, it’s still on. He taps his foot impatiently.

“Once we reach ten thousand feet, they’ll probably turn it off,” the older man says breathily, sliding his hand beneath the waistband of Gui’s jeans. Fischer loves how seldom the boy wears underwear, and now is no exception. He presses his palm flat against his erection, spreading a bit of moisture over his cock head within the tight confines.  

Gui is too distracted for much else than to try and control his breathing. His hand inches over to Fischer’s thigh, over his bulge there. “When is that, Allan?”  he has no concept of time.

“Twenty to thirty minutes, love,” Fischer answers, never tiring of Gui’s innocent questions, curiosity and impatience. As soon as he feels Gui touch him, though, he seriously questions if even he can wait that long.

A pout crosses the boy’s lips as he palms up Allan’s leg. “A tortuous thirty minutes…”  

Fischer resolves to make the most of the time and ramp up the tension. He pulls his hand from Gui’s jeans and licks the precome off his fingers slowly, sucking each finger like it’s a decadent treat. “Nothing tastes as good as you, you know that?” he whispers roughly.

Panting, Gui watches Allan lick his fingers, tempted to go down on the cop right then and there, what could they really do? “Nothing ever better either.”

Fischer’s eyes dart to the airplane staff, both seated, one staring straight ahead, the other buried in a book. “Fuck, Gui,” he mutters. “Just a few more minutes,” he sighs, willing time to pass faster and the plane to climb higher quickly.

The boy’s head is a little dizzy from the altitude change, but it only spurs him on to grasp Fischer’s cock through his pants. “Want this in me.”

“I need to be inside you too. Can’t wait to feel you, Gui,” Fischer sighs, turning the boy’s mouth to his own and licking inside his mouth, his breathing becoming more labored.

“Fischer-” Gui pants out, gasping between their pressed tight and licking tongues and mouths.

As if some unknown force is aware of their predicament and chose to intervene, the  _ “Fasten Seatbelt” _ light goes off with a  _ “ding” _ , and Fischer exhales heavily, pulling his hand against from between Gui's legs and tugging his shirt down to cover his erection. “Go to the restroom. I'll join you in a moment,” he instructs.

The boy is wickedly hard, but gets up nonetheless, and starts toward the bathroom, slipping behind someone waiting. They finally go in, and a few minutes later Gui is in.

Fischer presses in frustration at the base of his cock, his tanned cheeks coloring in anticipation. He looks over at the sleeping man next to him and finally stands, accidentally jostling the seat in front of him abruptly. Tugging his sweater lower on his waist, he whispers an apology to the passenger, and blushes deeper as he hurries down the aisle towards the restroom. Looking behind him, he notices the stewards are busying themselves preparing the beverage cart, and takes the opportunity to knock lightly on the door after Gui and slips inside.

Deft hands grab Fischer and push him against the wall as the boy’s lips collide with his, desperate for more friction and kisses. “Allan-” he whispers, grabbing at his jeans, pulling his cock out to finally touch skin he forbidden himself from for days.

“Gui,” Fischer whispers, frantic to touch the boy. He touched Gui with a burning fever, biting kisses into his lips, urgent panting filling the small space.

“Take me now,” Gui says, roughly, pants already down his ankles as he grabs for Allan’s hips, wantonly.

“Fuck, do you know how much I’ve missed you?” Fischer turns the boy around roughly, spitting in his hand and slicking up his cock as best he can. He rubs the thick, swollen head against Gui’s entrance, pushing inside hard. It’s beyond tight, but he thrusts to the hilt and holds his hips steady, panting and trying not to come from the incredible sensation. He reaches around to grip Gui’s own length and slowly stroke, easing him through the burn.

With a drawn out sigh, the boy presses back against Fischer, taking him in deep with one thrust, his body quaking around Allan’s cock. Gui groans, hands against the wall, holding their bodies up with strength that doesn’t seem right for his lithe form. “As much as I have missed you, I hope.”

“More...Gui, my life, my heart, it's all yours,” Allan whispers, moving deeper now, deliberately bucking into him. The older man leans forward, covering Gui's back with his body and gnawing sharp teeth along the back of his neck, twisting the boy's body to reach more of him with his mouth. His hip has healed well, and he's able to easily flex and grind into Gui with powerful, pistoning hips.

“Please,” Gui whines, needy for everything Fischer has, all the pent up want they both feel and need to let off. He groans, head forward, long curls in his eyes as he pants against the wall, body heating.

Fischer needs to see his angel's face and taste him; he pulls out and turns Gui around, picking him up around his thighs and leaning the edge of his backside against the sink. He shoves into him anew, ravaging his mouth with frantic, desperate bites and licks. The Dane slides his tongue inside, lapping at everything the boy has to offer, feeding from his lips as though he alone possesses a succulent, decadent nectar the man must have to live. Gui's cock drips between them, and Fischer strokes his hand from the base to the tip, gathering his pre come on his fingertips and pulling away from his kisses to suck the clear fluid off. “...Gui...” he exhales, rocking into him steadily.

The new position has Gui revved up and on fire, hands on the counter to give them leverage, holding himself there as Fischer fucks him relentlessly. “Allan-” is all he manages to get out, head lolled back on his neck as the lava in his lower back starts to boil over.

Fischer is fucking him senseless, banging against the counter in the tiny bathroom, and he briefly wonders if they can be heard. Gui is never quiet, and he's moaning as beautifully as he always does. Fischer covers his mouth with his own to muffle his erotic sounds of pleasure, but just as he does so he also closes his hand around Gui's cock once more, pulling the skin up and down his shaft harder. “Fuck,” he whispers raggedly, biting lightly against his neck, under the boy's ear. “We need to be quieter,” he gasps and wickedly sinks his teeth into Gui's throat, drawing blood. He can't help himself, the younger man brings out an animalistic side of him he can't control.  

“I can’t-” Gui manages, quieter even if it’s moaned. The boy grasps Fischer tightly, clinging to him as his body starts to explode from the inside out, overly hot all at once, he wishes he was naked. “Fuck, fuck, fuck… Fischer-”

Fischer wants to crawl into Gui completely, and he reaches behind the boy to pull him into him deeper, angling his thrusts up harder and harder. He's coming apart, blood on his tongue, the boy's name on his breath like a prayer. Buried deep, fingers leaving bruises in soft skin, he grips his ass and buries his face in Gui's neck, almost crying out as he explodes inside him. He swears Gui can feel his come shooting against his prostate, the force hits him so intensely. “Min skat, angel,” he exhales harshly.

Clenching hard around Fischer as he comes, Gui’s whole body becomes one hard pulse, gripping Allan tightly as his world turns hot white behind closed eyes. It’s hard and quick, and exactly what he wanted. Blissfully unaware of the growing line of people outside the door, Gui shakes and kisses Allan hard.

The older man holds his trembling angel, drifting fingers through his come to clean him up and taste his release. He struggles to calm his heart but it’s pounding in his chest. “Jeg elsker dig, Gui,” he whispers.

Gui nuzzles the other man, nosing against his neck. “That was fun.”

Fischer comes back to earth and begins to dress, pulling up Gui’s pants and reaching for a towel to clean up the residual “fluids”. He dabs carefully at the bleeding mark on Gui’s neck. Someone knocks on the door loudly. “Hurry it up in there”, a voice says. Fischer looks at the boy in alarm, trying to think on his feet. He splashes water on the boy’s face and down his neck to make him appear sweaty, and musses up his hair. “I’ll say you were sick and I was helping you,” he whispers. Absolutely  _ no one _ is going to buy that, but he can’t think of anything else.

The boy covers his mouth to stop laughing too much at the very idea of it. Once under control, he looks at Fischer and leans against him, doing his best to look sick. “Open the door,” he whispers.

The Dane opens it, having to slide himself sideways to make it out, and casts an apologetic look at the first person in line who glares at them. “Sorry, my friend is pretty sick,” he mumbles, moving past the line of people quickly and looking behind him to take Gui’s hand. “Come on,” he urges, tugging the boy along. The waiting people jostle and strain to make room, everyone looking put out and irritated.

Gui manages a little smile, but his eyes are clearly mischievous, as he wanders back to their seats with his hand in Allan’s. Once there, he slides by the sleeping man and then into his seat. “Aren’t there two bathrooms on this plane?”

Fischer can't hold back a chuckle at Gui’s observation.“I think maybe some of those people really wanted to hear us, secretly. Because yes, there  _ are _ two bathrooms on this plane.” He rubs the boy’s thigh with a twinkle in his eye.

“Curiosity?” Gui asks, leaning over to Fischer to rest his head against his shoulder.

“Perhaps so. Titillation,” Fischer says, nuzzling the boy's curls. He leans his seat back and grins at Gui. “It’s a nine hour flight. There was no way I was going to be able to wait that long anyway,” he says, holding Gui’s hand and weaving his thicker fingers through the boy’s long slender ones.

“Me neither. Should have fucked at the hotel,” Gui muses with a grin, happy and content now that they had gotten it out of their system. For now, anyway.

Fischer looks over at Gui. “I hope I didn't make you too sore. I'll want you again, soon enough,” he says. He tucks a pillow under the boy's neck and unfurls the blanket over them, this time for warmth and comfort.  

“Have you ever left me sore?” Gui asks, quietly, eyes closing as Fischer’s presence tends to soothe him when they aren’t fucking.

The older man raises his eyebrows. “You've left  _ me  _ sore, allerkæreste. I'd like to think I've given you some good workouts, but you're quite flexible and resilient,” he teases. “Of course I also try to take good care of you too, my treasure,” he whispers.

The beverage cart reaches their seats, and Fischer is famished and cannot be more grateful. “Two beers, thanks,” he says, taking the bags of peanuts the stewardess hands him. He gives one to Gui. “You should eat, love. They're not serving dinner for another 3 hours.”

Gui takes the peanuts, shaking his head. “Maybe a little sore.” He fumbles with the bag and finally manages to get it open, and sniffs at the nuts inside.

“These are peanuts. They're a type of legume, grow on trees. Salty but good. Lots of protein,” Fischer explains. He doesn't even know if Gui's ever eaten peanuts before.  

“Legume?” The boy doesn’t know the word, but tries one of the little beans anyway. “Why is it called a nut then?”

“They look like peas and taste like nuts. They grow in a shell that looks like a pea pod, two little round fruits in a casing. Afraid I don't know much more than that, though. Except they're pretty damn tasty and they make me really thirsty,” Fischer grins, just as the stewardess brought them their beers. He hands one to Gui and moves to toast him. “To bringing the love of my life home,” he grins. “And to new adventures that await us there. Skål. Now, bunden i vejret eller resten i håret,” Fischer chuckles at his own joke. “That means,  _ bottoms up or the rest in your hair _ ,” he laughs.  

Gui laughs, and sipped the beer and ate another peanut, curiously. “Do I get to meet your…  _ friends _ ?”

Fischer nods slowly. “I don't have many, but you can meet my acquaintances...just...don't kill them,” he remarks, only half joking. “There are plenty of others that are fair game,” he winks at Gui.

Well, I'd they aren't friends, the boys wonders, why would it matter? He hums and pressed a kiss to Fischer's cheek before sipping his beverage. “Fine, fine.”

The agent smiles into the kiss and closes his eyes, having finished his beer and feeling sleepy. 


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note the timeline of his fic follows some years after canon Hannibal tv series. With that, Anthony Dimmond is already dead, this one is simply a clone, since we're working in a verse where that's possible.

Fischer finds himself dreaming of being in Denmark; he can tell because he recognizes the jagged coastline of Mykines, in the Faroe Islands. He’s at the Strait of Hólmsgjógv, a place his brother and he used to hike when they were boys. Their family had a small cabin there where they’d go on vacations in summer. 

Fischer is alone, descending a grassy slope, when he catches sight of a man, one of the men at Horsens who’d been particularly cruel to him. He could hold his own most of the time, but this one - Jepsen - held it over his head that he’d been a cop, and tormented him day and night. One of the worst times, the guy and his buddies jumped Fischer in the latrine, and put him in the medical ward for two weeks.

Jepsen is sitting on the edge of a cliff; he doesn’t see Fischer coming. Fischer picks up a rock and smashes it against the man’s skull, beating him brutally. He jumps back in shock, covered in the man’s blood on his shirt and hands, on his shoes. He can’t believe what he’s just done, and he looks around in a panic before he begins running. He runs a distance but sees the man’s body in front of him again, as though he hasn’t escaped at all. As he rounds a bend in the grassy path, the man comes out from behind a tree, his face battered in and brain matter dripping down the side of his skull. He opens his mouth to speak. “This is  _ who you are _ . Don’t try to hide from who you are,” he chokes out before falling to the ground. Fischer wakes up with a start, sweating.

“Fischer?” Gui asks, dozing off himself, but only in and out as he keeps watch of them, never once letting his guard down for more than a few minutes. He can’t, not here, not without his knives. Anything could go wrong.

Still disoriented, the older man wipes his face, trembling. As he sees Gui, his mind clears and he sighs heavily, straightening in his seat a bit. “Oh, nothing, just a...just a bad dream,” he stammers.

The boy watches Fischer with gleeful amusement, and kisses his temple chastely. “Tell me.”

Fischer glances at him uncomfortably. “I was on this island I used to vacation on as a kid. I saw a man, one from when I was in prison, a nasty son of a bitch. I…” he looks around to see if anyone is listening. “I killed him. Bashed his skull in. But he didn’t die, he kept following me and telling me shit…” He shifts uncomfortably in his seat.

“Telling you ‘shit’?” Gui cants his head just so, long strands of chestnut curls falling into his eyes.

Fischer shakes his head. “Telling me I can’t escape who I am, whatever  _ that _ means…” He’s uncomfortable, still wound up from the dream. He wonders if it has to do with his growing curiosity for what Gui does; perhaps the boy has been having more of an influence than he imagined. He  _ did _ , after all, tell his angel he  _ wants  _ to watch him work.

“None of us can escape who we are. Someone of us embrace it, some of us hide. Are you hiding, Allan?” Gui asks, simply, gazing intensely into Fischer’s eyes, never once even blinking.

If this conversation had occurred weeks ago, Fischer might be unnerved. He is, strangely, only slightly unsettled by Gui's intense gaze and the pointed question. Gui does still have the power to stir a nervous excitement in his belly. “I think, you're teaching me to embrace it,” he says slowly, his gold eyes meeting Gui's.  

“Madness is relative,” Gui says, quietly, a calm and yet and overwhelming sort of presence about him suddenly. “I want you to let go the way you’ve taught me to let go.”

There is a lot about the beautiful young man Fischer has yet to fully understand; how he's so painfully innocent about so much, but in moments like this - moments like the night he carved his initials into the man's chest - he has such a startlingly strong presence, a knowledge beyond the mere months he's been alive. “If anyone can, it's you, Gui. There's a lot you can show me. Teach me.”

“I plan to,” Gui whispers, leaning over to kiss Allan’s mouth softly.

***

Roughly nine hours or so later, they land in Aalborg, and it’s another thirty-minute drive from there to Skørping. Fischer had left his car at home, and opts to take a train there. Gui finds he loves the train almost as much as the plane, watching as everything fly by so quickly.  It was so different here and yet so very much the same.

“How far out are we from where you live?”

“About half an hour,” Fischer says, looking out the window. It seems like it’s been much longer than it has since he left Denmark for his training, and he never anticipated coming back like this - with the love of his life.  

“Not far then” Gui says quietly, watching everything roll by quickly, so much green he’d never seen before, always in the city.

The trip seems to take longer than it should, mostly because Fischer sits across from Gui, looking at him longingly and wanting to kiss him, but there are so many more people around, and it's morning. Not that he's ever cared about being public with his affections, but a crowded train mid morning seems like a bad idea. He just wants to get home and be alone with his love again.

He has texted a few people on the way over to get a ride, but La Cour is the only one that replies back; he's going to pick them up at the train station. Fischer's nervous about it, but it can't be helped, and he hopes it goes well.   
  
As they disembark, a tall, dark-haired man walks up to Fischer, greeting him in a bear hug. Fischer stiffens, but pats him on the back heartily.    
  
“Hej! Hvordan har du Allan?” The other man says warmly. (Hi, how are you, Allan?)   
  
“Jeg har det fint, tak. Og dig?” (I'm fine, thanks. And you?)   
  
“Glad to see you, my old buddy! And this must be...?” La Cour trails off, smiling at Gui.   
  
Fischer puts his arm around the boy, moving him forward. “This is Gui, my...boyfriend...” It feels like an inefficient word to describe what they are, but there's no other way to put it.    
  
“Robbing the cradle, aren't you? Hello Gui, I'm La Cour,” the other man says, extending his hand in greeting.

Gui simply stares at the hand, and then at Fischer, as if he’s ready to bite fingers off his friend’s hand. He’d heard about La Cour, of course, but that does not mean he’s pleased to meet him. The simply sneers, one hand in his pocket with his retrieved knife from his bag, which is now over his shoulder.

Fischer knows; it can’t help that he’d told Gui early on about what had happened between the two men. Clearing his throat, he steps towards the car between them to load their bags. “He’s...he’s a bit shy,” he explains quickly, and moves Gui by the waist gently to guide him to sit in the backseat, where Fischer decides he should sit as well.

La Cour seems to sense right away something’s off, and smoothly dismisses the failed introduction. “Was the flight good?” he asks.

“Small talk is for the dull and unintelligent,” Gui states, matter of factly, arms over his chest as his shoulder presses in against Fischer’s.

La Cour looks in the rear-view mirror at the boy and nods sympathetically. “That’s fair.”

Fischer pipes up, eager to fill the awkward silence and clear tension, though he knows that’s not likely to happen. “So, how’s Ulf, Ingrid, everyone? Any good cases lately?”

La Cour relaxes a bit as he drives, glad to talk about anything at this point. He eyes Gui and drives on. “Pretty quiet. Ingrid’s on vacation with Tobias and Gry. I.P.’s been holding down the fort pretty well; I know he’s angling for a promotion since Ulf’s about to retire. He’s been grooming Ingrid to replace him, so I.P. wants the chief's job. Gaby and Johnny are good. I think they’re trying for a baby again. Stressed but hopeful.”  

Fischer grins, happy to hear about his old friends and gossip about the team. It seems normal, regular, familiar. “That’s great. Glad to hear,” he says, quietly taking Gui’s hand in his own and squeezing lightly.

“How was training? I heard things got pretty wild back there,” La Cour asks.

“Yeah, there’s a serial killer on the loose. He got Crawford and several of their agents. Everyone was pretty shocked. I learned a lot, but I’m just glad to be home.”

La Cour nods as they drive. “Well, when are you coming back to work?”

“Not sure, but it’ll be at least a week. I need to get my bearings a bit. Things were rough back there, and I’d like some quiet time with Gui,” he says, smiling over at the handsome boy.  

Gui is quietly kept, he won’t say anything else; it’s not his nature to be actively talkative if his scouting the area around them, watching out for anything unusual. He doesn’t know this place, this town, these people…He’d grown accustomed to Baltimore and the people, how they worked. This was all very new. Fischer’s hand in his does little to comfort, so he drowns them out, leaning up against the window now as he watches the green landscape.

Fischer notices the far away look in Gui’s eyes as they pull up to a small, rural, cobblestone cabin. La Cour gets out to help Fischer with the bags. They bring everything inside, and La Cour embraces Fischer once more. “Call if you need anything. Great to see you again.”

The Dane closes the door behind him, glad they are alone again at last. He takes Gui’s hand as they stand in the small foyer of the house, tugging him along. “You ok, min skat? Want to see the rest of the place?”

Gui nods his head slowly, but wraps his slim arms around Fischer’s middle, head against the crook of his neck. “I didn’t expect it to be so different here, Allan.”

“Where we are now  _ is _ pretty quiet. I like the privacy of living out here. But we're not that far from the city. And when I go back to work, we can stay at my flat in Copenhagen. I think you'll like it there, though it's still very different from Baltimore.” Fischer nuzzles the boy’s soft curls, and rubs his back firmly.

“How often do you work?” Gui asks, very carefully, cautious now, as he ever is, and moves slowly to see the cottage, to see where he’s decided his life was to be settled now… for Allan.

“Usually six days a week, or however long the cases are. But they’re slow and honestly, I think I might start part time. I...I don’t like the idea of being away from you so long. Plus we have to...find work for you,” Fischer says a bit mischievously.

“Maybe it’s better you don't find me work  _ while  _ you work,” Gui suggests, their careers hardly help matters. However, he can't help but smile over at Fischer as he walks the length of the living room to the kitchen, looking at everything.

“Well, I already have some candidates for you, min skat. I just have to find out where they are right  _ now _ ,” Fischer replies. “I have resources.” He leads Gui through the living room and into the bedroom. It’s sparsely decorated, very simple, just a bed, a dresser and a desk. He sits on the bed, exhausted from all their travelling, and lays down, beckoning Gui to join him.

Gui is taking it all in first, checking the room slowly, and then goes to Fischer. “Who?” he asks, lowering himself into his arms. “Your friend? I’ll gladly do it. He’s nosey.”

Fischer's mouth opens in surprised shock. “Thomas? He's...he's harmless. An 'empath' or some shit, very overly sensitive. He...I'm sure he didn't mean to be nosey,” the older man says. He doesn’t want the man dead, but looking in the boy's eyes, he nervously wonders if Gui would really do it.

“Terrible empath. You should have known Graham,” Gui says, meaning every word he says, he always does.

“I wonder how similar he truly was to you. You have some of his memories...are you an empath as well?” Fischer has keenly noticed many times throughout their relationship when Gui  _ has  _ seemed to read his mind.

The boy smiles coyly, rolling over Fischer to straddle him, gazing down at him. “I’m made from his likeness and personality, but given the ideals he never acted on.”

“Hannibal gave you those?” Fischer asks, amber eyes focused on the pink pout of Gui’s plush lips as he speaks.

“He tweaked me. Made me the same, but very different. My core is same, but I’m more outgoing than he was, more willing to act, willing to do what has to be done… willing to not care what everyone else thinks,” Gui explains, knowing just what he was and why he was, all in the same.

“I don’t know how he did it or what he did, but you’re perfect to me. And I don’t want you to get bored out here, min skat. Or bored with me,” he said, squeezing and slapping Gui’s behind with a wink.

“How could I get bored?” Gui queries innocently, and pinches Fischer’s sides gently, careful of his healed wound.

“I’ll make sure you don’t. When I go into the city, there will be a lot for you to see and do there. Out here though, we can make as much noise as you want. No one to tell us to be quiet.” Fischer rolls up his hips and moves his hand to his shirt to unbutton it slowly. He smiles up at the beautiful boy atop him, so flushed with a look of innocence, and yet the Dane knows behind those eyes is something so delightfully dark.

Gui presses his palms into Fischer's chest, grinding down on his hips with slow, deliberate moves. “No one to hear you scream.”

Letting the fabric fall to either side of his broad chest, Fischer exposes dark fur scattered across olive-hued muscle. The scar of the boy’s initials is startlingly white against his tanned skin. He hooks his fingers under the hem of Gui’s t-shirt and tugs it up to pull over his head. “When we were in that airplane, all I could think about was getting you naked, min elskede,” Fischer says, his face full of adoration. “I can hardly believe you’re here, home with me now.”

The shirt falls to the floor, the boy bare and fair skinned, with matching scars, or at least some of them. They mean the same, anyway. Gui tugs his hands through Fischer’s chest hair, over his initials on his chest, taking a deep breath. “I’ve decided I don’t like planes much.”

“We don’t have to take another for a long time, my treasure,” Fischer says, reaching up to stroke the soft chocolate curls that hang down in his face. He pulls Gui down to lay flush on top of him, chest to chest, opening his mouth over the boy’s.

Gui writhes over Fischer and bites down into his mouth slowly, tongue and teeth clicking gently over perfectly shaped lips. “Good.”

Fischer misses his boy, adores him. Even when they’re together every waking moment, the man wants more. His tongue snakes slowly into Gui’s mouth, a soft but dark sound escaping his lungs as he savors the now familiar taste of his love. “I wonder how anyone in the world could ever have a love like this and not tear the world apart,” he whispers as they part for a moment. It’s too many words, too complex a thought, but he blurts it out all the same. He’s always worn his heart on his sleeve, been too sentimental even if he tries to hide it behind a gruff exterior, and at this stage in their relationship, Gui would see through him. He has no desire to hide anything from him anyway.

“You’re a sap,” Gui manages to get out, huffs of breaths now pant into the air between their kisses. The boy only knows of love what he’s  had with Fischer, and that too has surprised him, taken him for a loop far more devastating than any roller coaster Allan could ever take him on.

“I may be, but you love it. I know you do,” the Dane remarks, cupping Gui’s ass and kneading round cheeks in his big hands. “Would you really be happy to be with me forever?” he asks, still in a romantic mood, especially now.  

“Why wouldn't I be?” Gui asks, ready to spend every waking breath with Fischer if he can, and if money were never a concern, he would.

“I don’t want to even imagine the day you won’t...it won’t happen, I’m sure.” Though he’s not sure, the older man says it anyway, in hope. He rolls over to his side, taking the boy with him, wedging his thicker thigh between Gui’s more slender but still quite muscular legs.

“You believe me so fickle? That I’ll leave you?” Gui asks, but they aren’t questions, they are statements that he sees as true as he gazes into Allan’s honey colored eyes. “Am I that terrible?”

“You’re not terrible, you’re wonderful. You’re amazing, min skat. It’s human to worry about losing someone, to have doubts. You’re a beautiful boy, so young. You likely don’t see your own worth. But I do,” Fischer responds, lost in thoughts that get swallowed whole by Gui’s wide-eyed purity. In spite of the darkness lurking beneath, he’s still so inexperienced, and Fischer hopes he can be the one to teach him for a long, long time. He wants to,  _ forever _ .   

“Then let me be wonderful with you forever,” Gui offers in a whisper, as innocent as it might sound from him, he means every word of it.

Just as it has so many times with this miraculous creature, Fischer’s heart pounds hard against his ribs. He pulls his angel into his arms and crashes his lips against Gui’s, unable to speak any longer for the emotions rolling through him. He kisses the boy hard, rolling over on top of him, and holds himself up by his arms to prevent crushing him; even still, most of his weight rests over Gui’s body as he plunders his mouth gluttonously.

Gui all but giggles at Fischer’s enthusiasm. He is always ready and able, always on, and always willing to go at with Allan. Gui tangles his fingers in Fischer’s hair and pulls him closer, legs wrapping tight around his hips.

Fischer rubs his burgeoning hard on over Gui’s thigh. “I know we’re both tired from travelling but, maybe we need something before we take a nap, hmm?” the older man asks, scraping his teeth along Gui’s neck as he pulls it back and licks down his throat lustfully.

Gui smiles mischievously, and bites Fischer’s lip, drawing blood that he laps away. “Need me again?” He doesn’t mind, not one bit.

“Oh god, yes, I do. I can’t get enough of you. Need you…” Fischer trails off, unbuttoning and unzipping Gui’s jeans and pushing them down. Frustrated with his fumbling, he rises to his knees to remove the boy’s shoes and socks, yanking his skinny jeans off his long legs. He then relieves himself of his own pants and throws them across the room with a smirk. “Much better,” he sighs, climbing back over Gui, both of them now completely nude. His thick cock leaks against Gui’s leg tellingly. “You too sore from the airplane?” Fischer asks; he doesn’t want to hurt him and could content himself with other activities.

“Just shut up and take me,” Gui says with a roll of sea-blue eyes, and he tugs Fischer in for another kiss, his thighs spread, as he reaches into one of their bags by the bed to find the lube.

As Gui hangs half off the bed to grab the bottle, Fischer begins licking and kissing up his torso, tasting every bit of skin he possibly can. He reaches between the boy’s legs to stroke him. “You love it as much as I do. I  _ know _ you do,” he laughs, skimming kisses across his chest and down his sides, where most people would be ticklish. He wants to know if Gui is, though he’s certainly not ‘ _ most people’ _ .

Gui laughs, and gets back on the bed, holding the bottle out to  Allan. “I do. I think I was the one that propositioned you for sex the first time, remember? Had to convince you I wouldn’t kill you…”

“I’ll be honest, the thought didn’t leave my mind for a while. But now, we are so entwined, I don’t know how we’d survive separation. I know I wouldn’t,” Fischer admitted. He sat up, squeezing some of the lube over his length, and spilling some over Gui’s entrance as well, rubbing over him teasingly. The man’s eyes blazed almost blood red with desire for Gui.

“I wouldn’t,” Gui says, his voice rough with need, as Fischer teases. He gazes up at him, eyes big and blue, bright with child-like wonder and yet dark with lust, such very conflicting characteristics.

“I’d die before I let anyone hurt you,” Fischer exhales with conviction. He rubs the head of his cock against the boy’s little pink pucker several times more. He’s so painfully hard, his cock is throbbing like he hasn’t fucked in weeks, he wants Gui so desperately. He finally pushes inside, lingering with the thickest part of his girth at that tight entrance, savoring the squeeze. He teases in and out shallowly, his mouth open as he pants out. It’s almost too much.

“I know…” Gui manages, head tilted back as he pressed up on his heels to take the other man in easily, and pushes down on him when he refuses to go further. “Fuck me.”

Fischer plunges deep, his groin meeting Gui’s as he fills him instantly at his demand. Fully sheathed in the boy’s heat, he sinks his teeth into the boy’s neck, adding a beautiful mark near so many others he’s left that have now faded to light pink bruises. He tugs the skin between his slightly crooked fangs, sucking hard and licking over him like a wild animal. He shoves hard into Gui, over and over roughly, pinning his arms above his head now and rutting into him wildly.  

“Allan-” the boy groans louder, fingers curls into his palms as the agent works him over as only Fischer seems to know how. Gui writhes with abandon, panting and moaning as he hooks his ankles behind Fischer’s back.

Fischer slows in an attempt to prolong their pleasure, but he's burning inside, holding back a dam of passion and fevered lust. As Gui hooks his legs behind his back, however, he finds his patience slipping. The boy is a temptation that he is ravenous for, one he cannot stop feasting upon like a starving man. “Guillaume...oh min skat...nothing in this world is as good as you,” he pants raggedly.

Writhing below Fischer, Gui, ruts up against him, needy, feeling his large cock throb against his prostate sweetly. Gui groans, absurdly loud, panting little huffed breaths as their bodies start to melt together, soul to soul.

Fischer thinks back to their first heated, frantic moments together, before any of this happened. He’s nearly incoherent in his haze, and now focuses solely on his wicked angel’s pleading mewls, he plants his muscular biceps on either side of Gui’s head, fucking him with abandon. His hips cant upwards, rubbing his cock right against the boy’s sensitive gland, hitting it over and over.

Gui falls apart right then, crumbling completely under Fischer, coming in ropes and droves over his own stomach, unable to help it, no matter how much he wants to last. “Allan-!”

They are both so perfectly attuned to one another, so in sync, the connection between them binding them together unbreakably. Fischer ravages the younger man with the full power of his body, crashing down on the waves of his own climax within moments of Gui. “My love, treasure, oh Gui…” he howls, gripping Gui’s face in his hands and hovering over his lips as he comes.

Gui feels every last bit of Fischer finish, from the inside out, wavering and strong all at once. He groans, gazing up at the other man as they catch their breaths. “I could do that with  _ you _ forever. “

Fischer slowly pulls out, and collapses next to the younger man, pulling him tight against his body as he gasps. He kisses Gui everywhere; lips, cheeks, chin, neck, almost ecstatically. “I could too, my beautiful boy. I love you, Gui. So much. I’ve dreamed of the day I could take you home since very soon after we met,” he confesses.

“And now you have,” the boys replies softly, his eyes soft as he gazes at Fischer, as though nothing else in the world will ever be enough. Really, nothing will be.

***

Fischer spends the next few days getting acclimated to life back home. He spends lazy mornings fucking his gorgeous boy - actually, they spend a lot of time having sex on just about every flat surface of his cabin. About four days in though, they are both starting to get a little stir crazy, so the Dane decides they should take a trip into Aalborg. There’s a club there, Cafe Visa; they serve dinner and cocktails, and they have a dance club as well. Fischer thinks a night out would do Gui some good. He gets a hotel nearby so they don’t have to worry about getting home later or driving; he knows they need to blow off some steam from days in his cabin in the quiet countryside.

“What kind of place is this again?” Gui asks, clad in his slim fit jeans and a tight t-shirt; his hair is unruly in a halo of curls, no matter how much he tries to brush it down.

Fischer can’t peel his eyes off Gui, worrying his bottom lip with sharp teeth as he hooks an arm around his waist and sneaks glances at the younger man. “It’s a dance club, bar, they have a restaurant too I think. It’s upstairs. Want something to drink, love?” he asks, steering them towards the bar.

Gui likes the thought of that, having been into that scene just before finding Fischer.  He won't say that, of course. He nods his head, smoothing back stray curls.

Fischer orders two beers and hands one to Gui, taking a swig and looking down at him. The foam still on his lips, he dips his chin to kiss the handsome young man. “You look tempting as always, min elskede.”

The boy sips his own beer, but gladly accepts any kisses his Fischer wants to give him. He adds a nip at the end and then takes another sip, licking foam from his lips. “Try to keep you interested.”

Fischer throws his head back laughing. “Interested? I can’t take my eyes off you, Gui, there’s no one that could interest me as much as you.” A low thrum of bass from dance music begins, cutting over the speakers loudly, and the swirling lights in the room pick up the pace, but it’s too early in the evening for dancers just yet. Fischer guides Gui to a booth along the edges and sits down. There are a few young people milling about, most dressed in all black, keeping to their little groups.

“When do they start the dancing?” Gui asks, watching the people, all sorts of types here, even a few posh looking ones that don’t seem to fit. Gui grins at the thought of Hannibal in a place like this.

“Once everyone gets drunk enough. That’s usually how it works,” Fischer says, squinting around at the crowd.

Several beers later, people are starting to filter out and dance, and Fischer simply watches Gui watching everyone else. He’s fascinated with how his angel’s mind works and wonders what he’s thinking, though in truth, he knows. And he loves it. “I asked you once before if you ever danced. You want to?” Fischer asks with a grin.

Gui stands and tugs Fischer to the dance floor as his answer. The music is loud and trancy, enough beat for Gui moving, fast and in flurries, as if the music has taken him over completely. He bumps and grinds up against Fischer, sweaty after ten minutes of this, flushed and panting, and looking to not want to stop to stop any time soon.

Fischer is spellbound at the way his angel moves, just as he’d imagined, all rolling hips and taut abdomen, his tee shirt lifting just enough to see a sliver of muscle and the ridged v dipping into his low slung, tight jeans. He’s got some moves himself, as he’d demonstrated with his strip-tease that night weeks and weeks ago, and pulls Gui closer, brushing his lips over the boy’s neck to taste the little beads of sweat collecting on his skin.  

Gui’s arms drape over Fischer’s shoulders as they bump and grind to the same rhythmic beat. His head falls back  and he grasps Allan’s dark hair, urging him to keep doing that.

The older man tangles his fingers in Gui’s curls, pulling him tight against his body to kiss him, when he feels someone invading their space and looks up, annoyed. Another dancer, older than Gui but younger than Fischer, is smirking at him and dancing too close behind Gui. Fischer swivels Gui protectively away.

“Awww now, don’t stop on my account,” the man says with a wink.

The boy’s gaze goes to the man whose body heat he can feel right behind him, too close for most to be comfortable, but Gui isn’t most. He grins, eyes back to Fischer for a moment, sensing his apprehension, but all Gui can see is eager potential.

Fischer recoils slightly, but Gui looks so confident and relaxed, he follows his lead despite the question mark in his mind. “Uh, hello,” Fischer says awkwardly to the other man.

“Dimmond,” the man smiles seductively at a Fischer, looking him up and down before turning to Gui. “You boys look like you're having such a nice time, couldn't help but want to introduce myself,” he explained charmingly.

“This is Allan,” Gui says, eyes gleaming darkly. “I’m Gui.” He takes Fischer’s hand and squeezes it.

Fischer trusts his angel, and is very curious why he's being so nice to this guy when he is almost  _ always _ hostile to most strangers. Well unless he's...a thought dawns on Fischer as he searches Gui’s face, and he begins to suspect he knows. “Hej, Dimmond. Want a drink?” He asks.

“Sounds perfect. Anything sounds good. I like being surprised, living in the moment,” Dimmond grins.

“We’ll get them,” Gui says, tugging Fischer to the bar, leaving the other man in the dance floor for now. Gui leans in close, whispering; “Do you trust me?”

Fischer catches the boy's eye, and nods. “With my life, min skat,” he says. “He wants sex, Gui,” Fischer explains, not sure if he realizes what's going on; not sure he himself does either.

The boy laughs, and kisses Fischer for that, loving how protective he is. “I know. How do you suppose I get my… victims? The allure to lure.”

Fischer’s face breaks into a smile as they approach the bar. He leans down to kiss Gui softly and whispers in his ear, “You’re very alluring, and yes, I trust you entirely.” He orders three drinks from the bartender.

“You wanted to see me work, well…” Gui gestures was they wait, and leans in to rub himself up against Fischer, for show, to their new ‘friend’.

The Dane slips his hands around Gui’s belly, tugging his tee shirt up just slightly. His eyes follow Dimmond’s as the young man licks his lips and takes the offered drink from Fischer. “Thank you very much, Allan,” he purrs, sliding closer to them both and holding his drink up as he gyrates to the music. Fischer’s hesitant to touch the other man, doesn’t really have any desire to, and decides to simply follow Gui’s lead.  

Gui drinks his own, but he’s very slow at it, mostly letting it slip and slop to the floor, making it seem like he’s drank more than he has as they dance, keeping Fischer in front of him and Dimmond to the back, where Fischer can see him best. They’re a team now, he considers.

“Should you want another, go right ahead,” Gui says to Dimmond, a dark smile on his lips.

“Don’t mind if I do. Next round’s on me, since you boys are so delightfully welcoming,” Dimmond says, whispering a little too close to Gui’s ear and smirking at Fischer with a devilish look. He slides his hand down to Gui’s ass to squeeze it before heading back over to the bar and leaving them. Fischer raises his eyebrows as the man goes, his cheeks coloring with barely repressed rage over the man's hand on his love's rear.

Gui pets down Allan’s chest and kisses him. “You’ll get your revenge for that,  I promise you.”

“You bet I will,” Fischer snarls. When the dark-haired man approaches them again with fresh drinks though, the expression is gone, and he tries to cast his best “come hither” look. Dimmond returns the look and hands the glasses over, this time rubbing up deliberately against Fischer. “We could get nice and cozy with this, couldn’t we?” he whispers in the older man’s ear. Fischer conceals his disgust well, arching a brow at him. “We could,” he says simply. He’s a little stiff, but he’s trying.

“What’s your first name?” Gui asks the other man, tugging him by the shirt over and away from Fischer, who clearly isn’t ready to tease.

With his lips damp from his drink, Dimmond’s eyes travel down Gui’s form and he slides an arm around his waist, rolling his hips into him. “It’s Anthony, beautiful,” he said in a low voice.

The boy’s eyes darkened, narrowing at how bold this man was, and he clutched on to Fischer with reassurance molding into his facial expression. “Alright, Anthony. Why don’t we go back to our hotel?”

Fischer throws his drink back in one swallow, knowing he can, of course, handle his liquor. He just needs something to take the edge off, loosen him up. He smiles devilishly and moves behind Dimmond to do the same to him that he’s doing to Gui, bracing one hand against the man’s waist and rubbing against him suggestively. He has less than zero interest in this shameless whore, and now more than ever is curious with how far Gui is going to take it.

“Best idea I’ve ever heard. Take me,” Dimmond says suggestively, an eyebrow arched at Fischer who appears to finally be warming up to him.  

Gui takes Fischer's hand in one of his own, and Dimmond’s with his other, walking backwards out of the club. He won't let either of them be touched or derived, Dimmond won't last that long.

Out at the cab, Gui pushes Dimmond in first and crawls in after him, letting Fischer follow.

Fischer climbs in behind Gui and gives the cabbie directions; it's a short drive, but Dimmond spends it feeling Gui up and trying to involve Fischer, who tries to calm the throbbing in his neck with thoughts of tearing the man open. “We’re here,” he says in a clipped voice but smiling as he pays the driver.

Gui pushes Fischer out, and hugs him from behind as they make their way to the hotel. Yes, it’s messy, and Gui knows they will have to be careful, but it’s well worth it if Fischer gets his first taste for murder. They manage to the hotel room and Gui finds that things have been set up for them, only too aware that Hannibal has been by and keeping a close eye on them.

A tarp is laid out, over the floor to keep things from getting too messy. Gui is sure Dimmond will hardly think anything weird of it, that he and Allan are just into some very kinky things.

Dimmond laughs and stops to look at Gui with an amused smirk, one eyebrow raised. “You boys like to play messy, do you?” He slaps Gui on the rear and Fischer ducks his head to cough, closing and bolting the door behind them.

“We’re very messy,” Gui says, plucking the knife from his pocket, flicking it up with a gesture of his wrist. He notes the plastic suits laid out over the bed, as well, and looks to Fischer with a grin. Hannibal has been watching, and making sure Gui does not mess this up. 

Dimmond’s eyes catch the glint of Gui’s blade; at the same moment, seeing two plastic suits on the bed. “What...what are those for?” he asks, beginning to feel something might be off. 

“Easy clean up,” the boy all but snarl at the man. “Make this easy on us and lie down.”

The young man’s eye widen. “N-n-no…” he starts, turning for the door, but Fischer is standing there like a brick wall, and clamps a hand on his shoulder.

“Do as he says,” the Dane instructs, cocking his head towards Gui. Fischer looks over at his love, steering Dimmond towards the plastic.

Gui grabs the zip ties, and approaches the man. “Hands above your head.” Once he complies, the boy ties his hands together, and pushes him down to his knees. He takes the man’s shoes and socks off and stuffs the balled up socks into his mouth to muffle the cries and pleas. He’d prefer to hear them, but not in a hotel.

Dimmond begins to panic, but Fischer holds him still for Gui. He realizes in that moment, he’s helping with an assault, possibly more, and yet his anger is still very present. He looks at the fear in the man’s eyes but instead of feeling remorse, only feels vindication.

Once Gui has him subdued, Fischer picks up one of the plastic suits and starts to put it on, stripping down to his underwear before doing so.

The boy watches Fischer for a moment and then ties Dimmond’s ankles together, pushing him back to his knees. He strips down right there in front of the other man, in just his boxers, and puts the plastic suit on. It’s then he notices the glass jar filled with liquid on the nightstand. A new jar for a new heart.

Fischer sees the jar the same time Gui does, squinting at it in confusion, but dismissing it. He looks around the room suspiciously, curious about when exactly Gui assembled all the materials they needed. His attention is quickly recaptured again by the man writhing on the floor, looking up at him with pleading in his face, tears beginning to fill his eyes. It strikes him as funny. He leans down and slaps the man hard. “Believe it or not, it’s easier on you if you shut up,” he says with disdain.

Gui smiles at Fischer, taking up his knife again,  and kicks the man over, on to his back and straddles him. He cuts the buttons of his shirt off, and in any other situation, one might think this was sexy, but Gui makes no point in leading the man along any further. “It’s rude to come between two people and think they’d just take you up on your offer. Did we really seem like a couple that was looking for a third wheel?”

Dimmond shakes his head furiously from side to side, unable to do anything but emit a muffled whine. His eyes are filled with terror seeing no humanity in Gui, and looking desperately up at Fischer. Fischer smirks and shakes his head. “Don’t look at me. You defiled my angel with your filthy hands. I’d have fucking killed you right there in the club, but it’s cleaner in here. Well, cleaner for us anyway. You’re going to make a big fucking mess.” His heart is pounding with dread and excitement, as he knows this is what he’s wanted all along, to see  _ how  _ Gui does what he does so well. At the same time though, he knows he’s crossing a line this night that he’ll never be able to turn back from, even if he does nothing.

Gui looks up at Allan, giving him one more chance to leave or stay. “Observe or participate?”

Fischer weighs the question seriously for a moment before answering. “Observe...for now.”

The boy nods his head and returns his attentions back to the man below him. “I do wonder if you’d have minded this as much if we had played with you first.” He muses to himself, mostly dragging the blade down  Dimmond chest, hard enough to leak blood out, but not deep enough to maim him yet.

Fischer sits at the end of the bed in his plastic suit, ready to move in should the man try in any way to defend himself. He knew if anyone hurt or threatened Gui, there’d be no hesitation from him. He looks up at Gui, the way he moves his blade down the man’s chest, remembering the times he’d been in a similar position, yet seeing a completely different look in Gui’s eyes as he works. With him, there’s love, it’s unmistakable, profound, earth shattering. But now, there’s nothing but ice in his face; somehow it stirs something deep within the Dane. It’s an excitement that he’s still possibly afraid to acknowledge.  

Concentrating, Gui lets the blood run, and the man under him has stopped moving, perhaps afraid that if he does it will get worse. Or maybe he’s finally conceding and taking what he’s owed. No verbal response, so Gui continues in silence, carving a word over his chest, start with a ‘W’ and ending with an ‘E’. The man is covered in blood by the time Gui is done, groaning in pain but no longer writhing or struggling. Gui holds the knife over Dimmond’s heart, slowly pushing down so he feels every last inch slide into through his skin, scraping past bone, and again hits the organ.

Fischer stares in wonder mixed with jealousy as Gui carves the word into the prone man’s flesh, but as he realizes what he was writing, it’s quickly replaced by adrenaline.

Blood pools around Dimmond as it gushes from the wound, the man other man under Gui now thrashing as he tries with his last breaths to win. Before the knife can penetrate completely,  Gui pulls it out, watching the blood pump ferociously. Then, he drags the knife through skin and muscle, deep, and tears the man's chest open, and cuts out his heart, relieving the organ from the ribs and connective tissues. He looks at Fischer as the man's life leaves his eyes, still.

“Hand me the jar, Allan?”

Fischer's limbs are locked in place for a moment, paralyzed in shock that spreads from the base of his spine to his chest. The man’s blood finally stops spurting upwards, now that the muscle pumping it is detached, and as the geyser ceases, a calm stillness washes over the Danish man. His mind flashes back to that night in Gui’s apartment, the hooks on the walls, the dried blood and...the jars. He feels it happen to him, lucidity snapping him back to life, and he reaches for the glass container, viscous, colorless fluid sloshing as he grips it. Meeting Gui’s cerulean eyes, he loses his balance as he slips briefly in the thick, wet plasma on the tarp, but he quickly rights himself. Fischer opens the jar and reaches to Gui, to take the organ himself.

“Don’t drop it,” Gui says quietly, watching Fischer as he hands him the heart, still dripping blood, but everything is covered, just as they were. An easy clean up.  

Fischer takes the organ in his hand. It's not like he’s never seen one before, but he’s certainly never held one. A sensation of curiosity, power, and titillation courses through his veins, and he carefully drops the heart into the jar, finally looking back up at Gui. A sadistic smile plays on his full lips, and he looks at the body and mess between them as though he can't believe what's just happened. “It's perfect, min skat. It's beautiful.”

Gui stands and kisses Fischer’s cheek and then his lips, feeling his acceptance, not the horror he was afraid Fischer might  feel when he realizes that the boy is out to collect hearts. He sets the jar down. “It’ll go nicely with the others.” The ones he found a few days ago, stashed away in a part of Fischer’s house until the man was ready to see.

Still covered in the dead man’s blood, Fischer seals the jar and sets it down, pulling Gui flush against him into his arms, and kissing him deeply. He holds Gui’s face in one hand, the other pressed along the small of his back. His mouth communicates the all-encompassing, overwhelming desire and need pumping through him, spilling out.

Gui melts into the agent, falling apart against him as he feels that he’s finally able to show Allan every piece of himself. He kisses Fischer back, slowly, but passionate, gripping the plastic suit over his chest tightly.

“Gui...Jeg elsker dig, Gui,” Fischer says, feeding from the boy’s cherry-red lips with feverish need. He grapples with the plastic suit, trying to hold on through the slippery blood coating his gloves.

Gui sheds the stupid plastic coat and pushes Fischer onto the bed,  undoing the buttons of his plastic suit as well, feverishly. The bloodlust is stronger now that Fischer has seen and accepted, and all Gui can think of is the murders they’ll commit… in time.

Fischer’s cock fills as Gui strips away the plastic and touches him, and the older man helps to extricate himself as well. Finally naked, he moans into Gui’s mouth, running his hands over his body. There’s something intoxicatingly primal and wrong about doing this with a freshly dismembered corpse less than two feet away, but it only fuels Fischer’s lust.

As the body slowly rots away, they are working themselves up in a lustful frenzy. Gui’s hands are everywhere at once, and then in Allan’s hair, tugging as their lips meet and brush, teeth biting and sucking on swollen flesh of tugged lips. Gui is quick to go down on Fischer, lathing his tongue over his cock, wetting him from root to tip.

Fischer moans wantonly, weaving his hands in Gui’s curls and bucking up into the boy’s mouth almost immediately. Crimson that dripped down the inside of the plastic suit earlier trickles down his furry chest, mixing with sweat and smearing across tanned sinew. He urgently needs this. “Want you, my beautiful angel, Gui, for helvede Gui,” he pants and curses.

The boy licks and sucks only long enough to wet Fischer and then he’s on him again, straddling his hips and slipping Allan’s cock into his ass, slowly, working him in until he’s taken the whole thing. Gui’s head drops forward, wet, bloody curls in his face as he pivots down into Fischer.

The older man grips bruises into Gui’s hips, shadows of old ones he’s left before. He bounces the boy up and down harder, the hotel bed squeaking noisily from their violent fucking. He pulls Gui’s face down to his to suck and bite his lips, neck, anything he can reach.

“Fischer-” Gui whispers, swallowing hard as he feels himself start to come apart so soon, but it’s been building since the thought of killing a man together, whether Fischer physically helped or not.

Fischer takes Gui forcefully, flipping him around to get on top of him. He has a savage look in his eyes, the scent of blood filling his lungs and making him feel feral like he never has before. The Dane curls his hand around Gui’s throat tightly as he slams into him over and over, the wet sounds of flesh against flesh echoing in the small room. No words anymore, only grunts and pained moans of pleasure escaping his lips.

The boy’s head falls back, exposing his throat for more, knowing if Fischer wished him dead, he could do it and he’d die a happy, happy boy. He trusts though, as his body is ravaged, and he’s spurred to the edge, at Fischer’s mercy when he’ll come. The lack of oxygen only makes the pleasure lap across the edge as he writhes, ever close.

Fischer bears down on Gui, watching his eyes go glassy and look far off, but he doesn’t loosen his grip. He can only feel the throb of the boy’s pulse beneath his thumb, and how he stares at him, willingly offering himself. He feels electricity burning in his spine and squeezes one last time, almost too hard, as he crashes over the edge of his climax, thrusting powerfully. He relaxes his hand only then, his heart hammering in his chest with the force.

With a breath, a gasp, Gui comes just after, a hum spreading through him as air rushing back into his lungs, but he can’t seem to move yet, chest heaving, just staring at Allan, with love and adoration, even now.

Fischer takes the back of Gui’s head, pushing his mouth over his angel’s open, panting one, kissing him hard as he gasps for air. He slips out of him to lay down and hold the boy, the bruises in the shape of Fischer’s hand darkening even as he does so. Gui’s fingers curl around Fischer’s arm, softly and more delicately than he usually might, but he’s unable to do much more than that right now, closing his eyes as he snuggles his Fischer--his Fischer he is so proud of.


	9. Chapter 9

 

The Creator had watched the scene unfold like a beautiful and perfect ballet, each and every dance on mark. What he has not foreseen is Gui's inability to wake after twelve hours. On that note, Lecter chloroforms Fischer, to keep him under just a bit longer. The doctor cleans up, taking the body and stringing it up across a club in far, far from them, never connecting Gui or Fischer to the murder. He half expects the boy to be awake on his return, though he knows Fischer will just be coming to. The dark purplish bruises across the boy’s neck were rough, finger like, and at the time, Hannibal rejoiced in seeing Fischer embrace his darkness.

Now Gui is not waking, but he is breathing, albeit raggedly. While the agent continues to sleep, Hannibal sets out a series of medications on the night table, and administers one through a needle into Gui, to bring down the swelling since he cannot force the boy’s throat open.

Finished, Lecter stands, packing his black medical bag, and glancing around the room once more, sure he’s taken care of everything, and then exits, shutting the door quietly behind him.

Fischer stirs just as the door closes and looks over at his beloved. His gaze lands on the angry bruises circling Gui’s neck. He rises to use the bathroom and get dressed, and the scent of cleaning products and bleach hits him like a wall. The windows are open and a fan is running, but the fumes are still distinct, and the previous night’s events come rushing back. The body is gone, the tarp, everything is cleaned up perfectly, even the clothes he and Gui had worn are hanging in the closet. The Dane gets up and goes through the room quickly to assess the situation. He approaches the front door and opens it to  see Lecter standing there, bag in hand.

“You…” Fischer says in a whisper, not wanting to wake Gui.

“I forgot to leave instructions,” Lecter replies, keeping his eyes on Fischer’s face, as the man has not yet put on his clothes, of which Lecter has cleaned. “I trust you’ll make sure he takes his medications on time?”

Fischer goes to the closet to retrieve his trousers, never taking his eyes off Hannibal. “Of course I will. He’s...he’s my only priority.” Fischer zips up and walks over to Hannibal, darting his eyes at the still sleeping Gui. “Did you check him? Is he alright?”

“He’ll live,” Lecter says, procuring the note that’s written in very elegant handwriting. “He’s lived through much more than this, I assure you. His airway is merely swollen. I’ve given something to decrease the swelling and pain. He’ll tell you he’s fine, but please insist he take the regimen I’ve left on the nightstand.”

Well, Lecter’s presence explains how the room was set up so meticulously before they brought Dimmond there. He wonders how long Lecter has been following them, but then again, it was likely the entire time. “I’ll make sure he does.” Fischer takes the note, glancing at it briefly. “I never got to thank you for saving my life before, back in Baltimore.”

“As far as etiquette standards go, a thank you would be just, but not needed in this situation,” Lecter explained. “Your life was spared for the boy. A lesson learned from either end.”

Fischer feels a jealous possessiveness bristle under his skin. “ _‘The boy’_ didn’t do anything I hadn’t consented to. He didn’t know...it wasn’t his fault. He wasn’t trying to kill me,” he defends, a lilt of sarcasm in his tone.

“I am well aware of the hows and whys of Guillaume. I made him. His lust for blood is like the swell of the ocean: soft and beautiful, dangerous like a riptide.” Lecter smooths his hands in the air peacefully. “I saved you because you make him feel desires and love that I do not believe anyone else can, or would ever want to.”

Fischer looks over at Gui, on the bed, a serene expression as he sleeps. He’s still utterly perfect in spite of the various marks, cuts, bruises and scars painting his skin...or perhaps even more exquisite, to Fischer, _because_ of them. “ _I_ want to. You should know, Lecter, how much I treasure Gui. How much I love him. I’d protect him with my life.”

There is pause in Lecter, contemplative, or perhaps resigning. Gui is asleep, and he’d prefer to see him awake, but he knows he has to leave, to deter word of mouth to getting back to the boy and his… beloved. “I know. Which is why I am giving him to you. In time, however. There are stipulations that Gui is aware of.”

Fischer has to bite his tongue, though it’s not a skill he’s developed very well, and he emits a sarcastic huff. “Should I be aware of these _stipulations_?” he finally asks.

A smiles flits faintly over the older man’s face, delight barely seen in his features, but it’s there, just a hint of it. “Not yet. You will be.”

Fischer knows he’s against a wall with this guy. He is, for all intents and purposes, Gui’s father, and he’s followed them across an ocean to keeps tabs on them. He’s part of Gui, and Fischer loves Gui, so Lecter is part of the package whether he likes it or not. The man _did_ save his life, and though there’s a lot about him Fischer doesn’t like, he knows he’s going to need to play nice.

“I’d prefer more details than _‘soon enough’_ , but something tells me I have no say in the matter. I trust Gui, and that will have to suffice. For now.” Fischer walks to the nightstand where the medications are spread out. “Is it normal for him to still be asleep like this? He doesn’t...he never sleeps this deeply or for this long.”

“A lack of oxygen to the brain. He’s trying to recover. I suggest use of the oxygen take in the corner I’ve provided, it may help now and when he wakes,” Lecter suggests, though honestly it didn’t matter, Gui would be fine, but implementing a little danger in the boy might just stir more inside of Agent.

Fischer nods and levels an even gaze at the other man. It’s a lot like looking in the mirror at himself in another ten or so years, and it’s very unusual, but he brushes it off as he did before; just one hell of a coincidence. “How long are you in Denmark?”

“As long as I am needed. Never far, should you or the boy need anything,” Lecter replies, hands clasped in front of him now, as formal as they can be in the doorway.

Fischer has about a million questions for this man, but decides it probably isn’t the best time. “If you have been watching us, you know what I do for a living. It is not going to be a problem for Gui and I, but I want to make sure it’s not a problem for you either. I protected Gui back there, you know that, right? By extension, I protected you, too.” he states, crossing his arms over his chest.

“I am aware of everything you’ve done and do presently, Agent Fischer. The question is: can you protect yourself?”

The agent narrows his eyes at the doctor. “I guess that depends on who’s threatening me. I got through one of the worst fucking prisons in Europe, I think everything after that is cake. Anyone particular I should be looking out for, Doctor Lecter?”

“The boy took care of Crawford for you both. I know you have enemies, Agent, so watch your back, they could expose you or Guillaume,” Lecter explains, simply, and slips on his gloves, ready to part ways.

“I’m always on guard. _Always._ I won’t let anyone hurt him or anyone tear us apart. I wouldn’t survive losing him,” Fischer says, the words slipping out before he realizes he may have just given the man something he could use against him. Admittedly he knows if the doctor wanted to off him, he had many chances by now to do it. He realizes he has to have a measure of trust here, as now both of their lives depend on it. He looks back at Gui, still asleep, and turns to see the man out. “As I said, he’s my only priority. Goodbye, and thank you again, Doctor.”

Fischer turns back into the room and sits beside the bed looking at Gui. He wants to touch him, to hold his hand. He seems to be resting so deeply that after some time, Fischer moves back into the bed and does just that, picking up the boy's hand and holding it to his lips for a moment. He watches the slow rise and fall of his chest and feels a deep ache in himself, the pain of loving someone so much that it possesses his very soul.

The door closes for Fischer, and Lecter leaves them to their vices. Gui’s eyes finally flutter a little, and he groans, the first signs of life other than breathing. “Allan?” he croaks out, trying to swallow down the pooling spit in his throat, but it hurts too much to try.

Fischer retrieves a cup of water from the nightstand and tries to help the boy sit up. “I’m here, min skat. Try drinking some of this. Just a sip,” he says, gently holding it to the boy’s lips.

There's a moment of confusion in Gui's blue eyes, but he takes a swallow of water and everything comes flooding back to him. He noses against Fischer's pulse, sweaty curls in his face. “Allan…”

Fischer takes the mask for the oxygen and twists the knob to turn it on, placing it over Gui’s nose and mouth gently. “Don’t exert yourself too much yet. Here, this will help you breathe.” After a few moments he takes it off again, wiping the hair away from his face and leaning up to kiss him on the cheek.

Gui looks around at everything, able to breathe a little better, but his neck is sore. “Where did this all come from?”

“Hannibal. He disposed of the body, cleaned everything, and examined you. Left me this medication and the oxygen. I talked to him before he left,” Fischer replies, setting the mask back on the nightstand.

“You talked to him?” Gui asks, quietly, stretching his neck out as his head lolls back on his neck, touching the bruised spots on his own throat, admiring them.

Fischer can’t help how much he loves the marks on the boy as well. “Yes. He had to give me some instructions on your care and medication. He also said there are some sort of stipulations about me being with you, but wouldn’t elaborate. Wasn’t in much of a position to ask more.”

Quiet now, Gui takes the water once again and sips on it, feeling the uneasy way it slides down his throat, but continues to drink anyway. Finally, he sets the glass down next to all the medication. “Yeah. It’s…” Gui waves it off with a little shrug. He can’t explain it without giving it all away, and that is besides the point.

Fischer sighs and picks up the instructions Lecter gave him. He takes some of the medication in the syringe and lifts Gui’s arm, exposing the vein in the crook of his elbow. “Are you in pain? He said I should give you this. Too bad it’s not a shot I could put in your ass,” he jokes with a smile, trying to lighten the mood. The most important thing right now is Gui’s recovery; plans for the future can wait.

“What is it?” Gui glared at the syringe, and flinches, wanting to pull away. Hannibal had been known in the past to drug him, he’d even drugged Will once.

“It’s an anti-inflammatory, something for the swelling around your throat,” Fischer says, reading Lecter’s handwriting. “It’s not going to put you out, Gui. He left stuff for that too if you needed it, but it’s only needed if you’re in pain,” he adds. He carefully braces the boy’s arm to inject the medication. Frankly he doesn’t trust Lecter either, but they don’t have much choice now.  

Gui trusts, but he knows his Creator, too. He swallows, hard, rough around the swelling, and nods. “It doesn’t hurt.”

Fischer leans down and kisses Gui softly on the lips. “I didn’t mean to hurt you, my love, but I think you know that. I just...something came over me in the moment,” he whispers.

Big, bright blue eyes gaze at Fischer, lovingly, and without any hate or remorse. “I don’t mind, I didn’t care. I knew you wouldn’t kill me…”

Fischer smiles down at Gui and gets in bed next to him to hold him. “I have the room another night so you can rest more. If you’re well enough we can go home tomorrow. We have a few more days before I go back to work,” he says forlornly. He doesn’t want to think about that, not yet.

“Let’s go home now. I don’t want to stay.” Gui looks around, seeing how Lecter cleaned up his mess, aware he had been there, watching them the whole time.

“Are you sure, min skat? I don’t know if it’s a good idea. You’re still ...you’re hurt, my love,” Fischer frowns with concern.

“I can walk can't I?” Gui asks, not feeling as though he were paralyzed. “It's not safe to stay here… if someone knew, like that cab driver, where we were…”

Fischer nods in understanding and gets up to start packing their things. “We’ll go. I’ll help you get dressed,” he says, pulling Gui’s clothes from the closet.

Fischer was cute when he was worried, but the boy is fine, but he knows it’ll make him happy to help. “Thank you, Allan.”

***

Breakfast and lunch that day consist of soft foods and liquids alone for Gui, Fischer taking care that he get nourishment without choking or aggravating his healing throat. On the trip back, Fischer is hyper aware of everyone that crosses their path, looking people in the eye, making sure they aren’t followed, though he knows if Lecter is watching there’s nothing he can do about it. He tells himself the man does have love for Gui, as he’s thus far proven that he seems to be on their side, helping them.

When they arrive back home, they’re both tired from the day’s travels, but Fischer decides he wants to cook for the boy. To his surprise, he sees fresh ingredients in the fridge and pantry that were not there before; he shouldn’t be surprised at this point, clearly Lecter had the same idea he did to stay in and make dinner. The man had left pork, potatoes, parsley, butter, flour, milk. Fischer decides what he’s going to make with what Lecter’s left them, and he starts assembling things on the kitchen counter, rolling up his sleeves.

“I’m going to make you a traditional Danish meal, Gui. Stegt flæsk med persillesovs. It’s fried pork and potatoes with a béchamel and persillesauce - parsley sauce. It’s not too hard, and I remember watching my mor make it...I mean mom. Besides, I could use a little practice cooking again.” he says, grinning at Gui.

Gui has seated himself at the table, to watch, still finding it hard to swallow correctly, or talk for long amount of time, but it will pass, he knows this. He stretches out over the table. “Is it good?”

“It’s comfort food. Usually not spicy, but I’m going to add something to give it a little kick.” He walks over to Gui to run his hand gently down his neck, noticing his voice is still hoarse. “Any better? Should you take some more of the anti-inflammatory?” he asks, his brow creasing with concern.

“I’ll get it.” Gui leans up to kiss Fischer, the marks on his neck are still there but not as vibrant, though he’d wish they were permanent. Gui gets up a goes through the bag of medication and pulls out a small pill he can now swallow, thankfully.

The Dane peels the potatoes and gets out a pan, frying up the meat, and delicious smells beginning to waft through the kitchen. It makes him feel good to take care of someone, no one more than his beloved Gui. Fischer mixes some of the flour and milk with seasonings and soon is plating the food, even including a sprig of parsley in the center. It’s basically fancy bacon and potatoes, but it’s something he used to love as a child, and wants to share it with Gui.

Gui looks over the food, the pill having kicked in, excited to eat something now that was not mashed or pulverized. “It smells wonderful.”

Fischer walks behind Gui’s chair and rubs his shoulders, leaning down to kiss the tender marks on his neck softly, barely a touch, just enough to try and show the tremendous love he has for him. He sits next to him and looks into Gui’s eyes, a warmth imbued in them. “I hope you like it,” he says a bit bashfully. He sits at the table next to him, collecting a forkful and tasting it. He nods, but waits to see what Gui thinks.

Gui digs in and shoves a lot into his mouth at once; he has to chew forever before he can get it down properly, but it tastes amazing. He gives Fischer a thumbs up, a smile curling over his features.

The older man beams at him. Taking a few more bites of food, his face became more serious. “I know we haven’t had a chance to talk about it, but if it wasn’t clear, I really enjoyed what we did. With that guy,” he clarifies, his eyes landing heavily on Gui’s own. He hoped it would make the boy happy that he’s so excited and interested in _everything_ he does, everything about him, and especially this dangerous and forbidden thrill that is such an integral part of his young love.

Swallowing, Gui stares at Fischer for a moment. “You didn’t mind the touching he did? I know it was a bit much… but I knew we were -- I was-- going to kill him anyway…”

Fischer smirks around his fork. “I minded it very much. I would’ve...I would’ve killed him, but I wasn’t quite ready. I think I may be, now though. After holding his heart. It was incredible to feel it in my hands like that. To watch him as you did that to him...to watch _you_ ,” he reaches under the table to rub Gui’s thigh. “It was amazing, truthfully.”

“The heart in a jar wasn’t weird?” Gui asks, carefully, and took another bite. He wants to show Fischer all of them.

“It was beautiful, Gui. It was art,” he said quietly, gathering his thoughts on how best to say it. “The way the blood came rushing out, spilling over the tarp, and the life leaving his eyes, the way you opened his chest and excised his heart...I felt so strange in that moment, Gui. I understand more now than I did before, _why_ you do what you do.” Fischer looks into Gui’s eyes thoughtfully.

A light goes off in Gui’s eyes, clearly glad to hear it. He takes three more bites and then jumps up, taking Fischer’s hand. Hannibal stashed his hearts from his old place here, in a closet not used by Fischer. He leads the agent to the door of the closet. “I want you to put the new heart with the others,” he says, and opened the door to reveal his collection; there are nineteen.

Fischer’s eyes grow wide as he looks at rows and rows of jars, each with the same clear, thick fluid, the small muscles suspended within, perfectly preserved. He lets a small gasp slip out, and picks one up, examining it closely. It hits him like a freight train how much evidence is here now, in his home, how he needs to make sure this is forever hidden and no one can ever find it, how he’d do anything to protect Gui from being found out. “I will...we will, min skat.” He turns to Gui and holds his hand up to his chest, leaning him against the frame of the closet to kiss him. “It’s amazing. I...love these, I love _you_.”

Had he shown Fischer these weeks ago, Gui is sure he might have freaked out a little, but with all he and the Creator had been doing to assure that Fischer didn’t, he is glad it was paying off. “I’d keep them all in one jar, but they’d never fit. A jar of hearts,” he grins, and tugs Fischer closer, hands running up his neck to his jaw, as they kiss slowly.

Fischer returns the kiss, moaning slightly as he slides his tongue against Gui’s, wrapping both hands in Gui’s long, unruly curls. Parting finally to breath, he exhales heavily. “There’s nothing in the world that moves me the way you do. You’re _my_ heart.”

Gui’s smile spreads, flushed skin as his heart beats faster and faster. He can’t imagine anyone ever being as wonderful as his Fischer -- his _Allan._ “I’m never leaving. I’ll always be your heart and you mine.”

If he could, Fischer would shout from the rooftops the depth of his love for Gui. As it stands now, he knows he needs to be discreet and keep a low profile, particularly with his job looming in the background. In a way, it’s likely the most beneficial thing for his love, to have Fischer in law enforcement. Who better to keep eyes off his activities, knowing the ins and outs of investigations.  

Still, their relationship is already out - La Cour knows - and Fischer can’t help but be proud.


	10. Chapter 10

 

“Guillaume, I just ask of you one more thing, and the rest will be set in motion,” Lecter says to the boy, as they stand out in the field by Fischer's house while the Agent is out. Lecter’s hands are clasped behind his back.

Gui stands on defense, he's heard this many times before now, but he can't say no, not when Fischer is so close. “Who?”

“Frederick Chilton. He's been left scarred, however, someone should put him out of his misery.”

“Where is he?” Gui asks, sighing.

“He is, in fact, in town.” Lecter smiled, a rare thing in itself, at least to the boy.

“Convenient,” Gui murmured, but nods his head. Lecter hands him a slip of paper with Chilton itinerary on it.

“Trust me, my boy. This will be the beginning of the end.”

***

Two years into recovery, Frederick Chilton was looking crepey with new skin grafts doing their job, but his left eye still sagged, looked mutilated, and people still stared. He tried to make the best things, but with Hannibal Lecter gone, likely dead, and Will Graham definitely dead, all his best subjects for books were depleted. Drinking away his sorrows in a foreign bar in Copenhagen, the doctor looks across the bar when he could have sworn he sees Will Graham, or at least the ghost child of him. Blinking, Frederick looks down into his drink, wondering if someone’s spiked it. How dull, if it has come to that.

Frederick downs his drink; either way, it had to be better than what his life had allotted to now.

“Another round?” asks a young voice next to him, and Frederick looks up, swallowing. Shaggy chocolate curls, and blue eyes, just like Graham, but so much younger, so much more…

“No thanks,” the doctor says, sure he has had enough now.

“Nonsense,” the young man pushes, and orders another round for them both, laying down the bills for it. He raises the glass. “To your recovery, Doctor Chilton.”

“Do… Do I know you?”

“No.” The younger man downs his drink , and Chilton does the same with only slight reluctance. A minute passes and his vision starts to fade, hazy. Last thing he sees is the boy above him.

***

The old crew had welcomed him back with open arms and a million questions about the intriguing murders Fischer had investigated while in America. Gaby was back as well; after so much time off work she’d grown bored and restless, and Johnny had opened up his own trucking company, hiring on drivers so he could stay home with his family more. La Cour had of course mentioned Gui to everyone, and Gaby teased Fischer mercilessly about the boy.

“You’ll have to bring him by so we can see the evidence that you’ve robbed the cradle, Fischer,” she says, poking him in the arm playfully.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Fischer smirks, shooting a glare at La Cour.

Ingrid strolls over to him with a proud, sisterly smile. “It’s good to see you so happy, Fischer. You look ten years younger. Whatever you’re up to with that boy, it agrees with you.”

“Thanks. So what cases do we have in the hopper?” Fischer asks, eager to move past the topic of his private life. He never was comfortable mixing the two; it never ended well.

“Jumping right back in, eh? Good, good. Ingrid?” I.P. interjects, shuffling papers around at his desk and taking a swig of coffee.

The team falls silent as Ingrid begins briefing them on the latest mystery, but Fischer only half listens. He’ll do interviews, as he always does. He is counting the hours until the day is over so he can go home to his Guillaume.

***

Fischer is left a note by Gui to meet him in town in an old abandoned warehouse that they’d be making use of. He’d tied up his prisoner and left him in the middle, in nothing but his briefs, giving the man the feeling of being watched by the Great Red Dragon all over again. Gui has special plans for this one.

***

Fischer receives the note Gui left for him, and makes his way to the location, his heart thrumming in his chest. He has an idea of what might be in store, and watches carefully to make certain he isn’t followed.

He walks in, the door having been left ajar, one hand on his sidearm just in case. He steps lightly, and spots the man in the chair. He doesn’t recognize him. The man is whimpering in fear as Fischer approaches.  

Gui steps in behind Fischer, hands behind his back and smile planted over his face, gleeful. “Allan…” He steps around him and to the other man and puts hands on his shoulder. “This is Doctor Frederick Chilton.”

Fischer breaks into a smile as bright as Gui’s when he sees his beloved, finally looking back down at the unfortunate man in the chair. “Doctor Chilton. The pleasure is ours, I’m sure,” he smirks. “And where did we find him, Gui?”  

“Wallowing away in a bar,” Gui says, smiling spreading. “Roasted and toasted.” Gui leans over the man, and digs his finger into his left eye and pulls out the fake one, and tosses it to Fischer.

Fischer catches the eye easily, slimy and warm in his palm, and chuckles. “That’s a handy little parlor trick that really gets the place going, eh, Doctor?” he smirks. “This guy is trashed, Gui. Holy hell, what the fuck happened to him?”

“He was set on fire by The Great Red Dragon, thanks to Will Graham,” Gui says, and Chilton gives a muffled grunt at the name. “His eye was damaged years before when he was hot in the face. The eye was taken years later.”

Gui holds what looks like a spiked melon baller in his right hand, flipping it around his finger, clear what it is he wants to do.

Fischer circles behind him. “Even up his face. His depth perception has to be shit with only one working eye. You’d be doing him a favor, Gui.” The Dane licks his lips and comes around the younger man, slipping his arm around his waist. “Unless you plan to just put him out of his misery quickly? Though that doesn’t seem your style, min skat.”

“Not yet,” Gui answers, and leans back into Fischer for a moment, touching his cheek with a free hand. “Do you want to help?”

Fischer’s heart pounds, a red flame lighting inside him at the invitation. He had expected he’d watch like before, but now that they are here, the invitation looms before him pendulously. His eyes move back over the pathetic looking man in the chair, and strangely he finds no compassion for him, no desire to save him, only a lust to see his blood, watch him be carved open as beautifully as Gui’s other kills had. “Yes,” he answers with a dark glint in his blood red eyes.

Gui smiles brightly, wicked and perfect. He hands the instrument to Fischer, watching as the man’s mutilated face twists and contorts, obviously very unhappy, and very scared. Gui can feel he has no idea who has sent him, that Lecter is having his last laugh somewhere at Chilton’s expense.

“Hollow him out.”

Fischer glances at Gui and back at Chilton, taking the offered melon baller and moving closer to the man’s face. He braces one hand on the back of the chair and pushes the implement in at an angle, blood pouring from the socket as he scoops the organ out, severing the orb from its optic nerve with a slight turn of his wrist. The man howls, his voice nearly gone from screaming in agony. His screams only serve to stoke the flames in Fischer, his skull vibrating with excitement.

Gui holds the man’s head still as the blood oozes out, dripping and spilling in ways that remind the boy of his first kills, sloppy and messy, but oh so memorable. He sighs happily, the man has gone limp with pain, and Gui goes to gather a jar, not like the ones for his hearts, but one to keep the eye in, should Fischer want to keep that token, too.

Fischer does indeed want to keep the organ, happily dropping it into the jar Gui returns with. He drops the melon baller, bending close to the man’s face as he watches him finally cease his struggle against his bonds, limp with agony and blood loss. “What sort of wicked things have you done with your life that have brought you here, doctor?” Fischer asks hypothetically.

The doctor is in and out, pain clearly making it harder for the man to stay awake, though from the looks of it, he’s known a lot of pain. “Please…” is the only word his malformed lips manage to get out before Gui stuffs a gag into his mouth, which the man sobs around uncontrollably.

“He wrote a book about the Creator,” Gui says, dropping the vile thing at the doctor’s feet near Fischer. “It’s all lies. He was Graham’s phychitrist when he was held at BSHCI. He’s had a hand in their lives for years.”

Fischer picks up the book. “‘Hannibal the Cannibal, the savory mind of Doctor Lecter,’” he reads. “Title’s a little hammy, wouldn’t you say? So this guy’s just an opportunist, always looking to exploit people for his own gain. I feel that might only be scratching the surface with you, given that from what I’ve heard, between the Dragon and Doctor Lecter, you’ve really been having a shitty time the last few years. Wonder if it was worth it,” he remarks, dismissively tossing the book back to the floor. “I doubt it will seem so now,” he says, looking at Gui expectantly, wondering what he’ll do to this guy next.

There’s a rather submissive feel to the doctor, as though he’s given up. He’d pleaded before, but not he seems to be slowly coming around, and Gui uses that as he tousles his head of thinning hair with a passive hum.

“One might think he’s welcoming death suddenly, that anything else we do would only put him out of his misery.” Gui sighs, standing behind the doctor once more, he takes the gag out and cradles the now blind doctor’s head in his hands, holding it against his stomach as he flicks open his favorite blade. “But I’ve promised his tongue to The Creator.”

“His tongue for what he’s said. You should take his hands as well, for typing up that garbage,” Fischer suggests, watching with eager anticipation. He can’t help but think Hannibal is watching them somehow, and what he must think of them. He’s sure he must be proud of Gui, as surely as Fischer himself is, gazing at his angel with a mix of awe, wonder and arousal.

The doctor gurgles under Gui, but the boy takes his tongue with two fingers and starts to slice the appendage slowly, severing every nerve so the doctor moaning in painful howls that fill the warehouse, but never leave it. Finally, the boy cut the very last bit and drops the tongue into another jar and seals it shut. He wipes the blood off of his knife on Chilton’s chest, who is moaning and choking on his own blood.

“If you want his hands, I suggest taking them quickly, he won’t last much longer,” the boy suggests.

Fischer’s face turns darkly serious as he walks to Gui’s black duffle bag on the floor, pulling out a cleaver and meat saw. “What do you think, should I shatter his wrist bones or make a clean cut with the saw?” The cleaver would get through the skin and tendons, but he'd need to separate the appendages from his radius and ulna somehow. Maybe Fischer is overthinking this, but he wants to impress his love.

“Do you plan to eat his fingers or merely mutilate him?” Gui asks, as it’s important to the final blow.

One of their first conversations comes rushing back to him, when they'd discussed eating human flesh. Fischer had been half kidding at the time, but now, so much about him had already changed. He was more than curious; he'd come to a point now from which he'd never return. “Eat them,” he whispered, his golden eyes turned as crimson as the plasma running down the man's chest.

“Then cut his hand off clean, we don’t want bone fragments,” Gui answered, looming ever closer to Fischer, like a moon in orbit, never straying far.

Fischer nods, and braces the man’s left hand firmly against the arm of the chair. With one swift, careful cut, he lowers the sharpened blade through skin and tendon right at the wrist, unintentionally managing to snap the bones in the process. It's not the neatest cut, but he holds Chilton’s severed hand, laughing, a hint of demented but childlike glee coloring his voice. “It was so easy!” he exclaims.

“The other?” Gui asks, holding out a bag for the hand, wanting to keep it away from the ground if they intend to smoke and eat them. He smiles at Fischer, watching his eyes and how wicked they have become like his own. Fischer is almost, finally, free.

Fischer drops the appendage in the offered bag and moves over the shaking man to his right side. With a steadier, harder stroke, he dismembers Chilton’s right hand. The Dane looks up at Gui, placing the second hand a top the first one in the bag. Blood pours freely from the ends of the man’s arms; Fischer can only stare with unrestrained pride at their work.

Gui ties off the bag and sets it down near the eye in the jar, and picks up the last jar, filled with liquid. “Now, take his heart while it’s still beating.”

Fischer pulls a knife from his pocket, not unlike the one he gave Gui their first night together. He stands in front of the man, considering how and where to cut; he’s never done this before, though he’s thought about it many times.

 _This is really it, then. I’m doing this_ , he thinks to himself, licking his lips, heart racing. Fischer moves closer to the man and leans down, pointing the sharp blade just under his breastbone, in the shallow well beneath his ribcage, and sinks the metal straight in with a firm hand. Thick crimson begin to bubble out through the incision, and the man is emitting an animalistic, unformed cry of pain, though Fischer can’t really hear it. All he hears is the roar of blood between his ears, his own steady pulse growing deafeningly loud. He pulls it down, through subcutaneous tissue, fat and muscle, and a pool of blood grows at his feet. He simply watches with fascination, a crazed hunger growing inside him.

He continues, cracking through the man's breastplate, and reaches inside to separate the bone as he'd seen his beloved do before. Fischer slices around the still pumping muscle and casts the knife aside to pull it out; hot, alive, still throbbing with the last vestiges of life. Fischer’s legs feel weak, but his hands hold steady as he looks to Gui for the jar.

Gui brings the jar over as the body below Fischer goes limp, blood rushing out all over, a mess against the concrete, bloody as hell. “Here.” Gui is so proud he could burst, but they have a lot to do before they could celebrate.

The older man gently lowers the heart into the container, sweat soaking his hair and dripping from dark tendrils. The front of his shirt is stained in sweat and blood as well. He looks at the gore around them with a heady mix of euphoria and satisfaction, finally fixing his gaze in the beautiful Gui. Cheeks flushed, glowing with a dewy sheen, bright blue eyes lit from within, he's never looked so angelically wicked to Fischer, so ravishing.

Gui sets the jar with everything else and kisses Fischer hotly, not care in the world for the sweat or blood. Fischer has made, he’s understood, and he’s finally Gui’s completely. Fischer wraps his arms around the boy passionately, words no longer needed to communicate the intensity of what lies between them.

The clicking of well polished dress shoes resounds through the near empty warehouse as Lecter appears from the shadows, dipping low to pick up the tongue in the jar, admiring it with a smile. “A fine specimen, Guillaume. Very well done.” He screws the lid in place and squats down to look at the heart, admiring the cuts there as well. “You’ll make a fine addition to the boy’s life, after all, Agent Fischer.”

Fischer releases his hold on Gui as the man makes his presence known, and wipes the viscera from his hand onto his jeans. “Thank you, I think, though I’m more grateful for him being in my life,” he replies.

“As is he. A shame to let the boy go through his existence and not know the conformities of love,” Lecter says, leaving the heart and other bits on the ground in their containers for them, but tucks the jar with the tongue under his arm. “There’s one last thing, Guillaume, you’ll both know it when it happens, and it is inevitable and most unfortunate.”

Gui gazes at Hannibal with a hardened stare. “You said one more-”

“I said one more task from me,” Hannibal quickly snaps, and the boy shuts his mouth. “This one is something that has been in motion since you arrived here. It’s most unfortunate for Agent Fischer.”

Fischer looks at Hannibal with confusion. “Did you have something to do with this...last task, Doctor?” he asks, moving to Gui’s side.

“The one coming? No. I’m afraid it’s something inevitable, and yet very crucial for the both you.” Hannibal tutts slightly, and smiles at Gui. “Don’t fret. All will be fine, I’ve seen Agent Fischer at his best, he’ll what what he must to protect you.”

Fischer distinctly does not like being surprised, and is uncomfortable with how evasive Hannibal is being. “I would hope if you have any information that would aid me in protecting Gui, you’d tell me,” he finally says, deciding it to be the least confrontational way of putting things.

“Consider those you are close to, Agent Fischer. Do you trust them with your life? Or do you trust their ability to sniff out the truth?” Lecter states simply. “Someone is on your trail, and he will find out.”

Fischer pauses. He can think of only one who's met Gui, only one who might be invested enough in the agent that might bother to look into the boy further. Gui’s tracks have been covered well by both men, however if anyone could track them or jeopardize the situation, Fischer knew who it might be. “I'll be careful,” he says, though an uncomfortably sick feeling sinks in his stomach.

“I think you know what has to be done.” Lecter brushes off his suit jacket and  looks at Gui, warmly. “Do not do anything foolish.” It is as sentimental as Lecter is going to allow himself to be, and he exits the room, out the warehouse where he disappears once more.

***

Fischer and Gui spend the next couple of hours working on the body; dismembering it, extracting the organs for consumption, and pulverizing the teeth and feet. The Dane leaves the more delicate work to Gui, who is far more skilled with his knives, and clearly well-trained by Hannibal. Fischer does the heavy lifting, and with the edible parts packed away in a cooler Hannibal brought them, they sterilize the scene and make their way home.

“Has Hannibal taught you how to cook the...parts we took?” Fischer asks Gui. He knows some rustic Danish cooking and how to make a mean Philly Cheesesteak, but aside from that, he’s a novice.

“Some things, he keeps a rolodex of recipes, it’s the same thing if you switch lamb lungs for human lungs, follow the recipe,” Guis says, packing up the last bits, every piece of Chilton is in some way edible or ground to nothing, or scraps for dogs in the alley on their way home.

“I have to admit, I’m excited to try them,” Fischer says with a grin. He turns the car down his driveway and they bring everything inside.

The older man is fairly beat after the long day and work they’ve done. Getting in the doorway, he looks at himself and then surveys Gui with a raised eyebrow. “I think our first order of business is a shower, min skat. Join me?” he suggests, kissing Gui on the side of his neck lightly and setting the cooler down in the kitchen.

The boy smiles, “Always,” he says, never one to deny Fischer anything. He puts the rest of the things down and waltzes up to Fischer, hugging tightly. His Fischer has finally made, they’ve made it to this point, to becoming and having.

***

Fischer is helping Gui plate the food they made with the former Doctor Chilton. Gui uses a meat grinder Hannibal had left them, and after cleaning and prepping the organs, grinds it all into what smelled like a very delicious meat pie. Fischer is surprised at the savory aromas wafting through the small kitchen, and as he surveys their dinner, his heart thuds tellingly. It will be his first taste of human, though honestly, it doesn’t look so different from any traditional dish with pork. He kisses Gui lovingly on the cheek before sitting down. “It looks and smells amazing,” he says quietly.

The pie is made of ground organ meat and potatoes, green beans with a sprinkle of cheese-- otherwise known as Shepherd's pie. Gui smiles back at Allan as he pulls the tin from the oven. He sets it out on the stove to cool. It isn't anything The Creator would make, of course, but it was beautiful nonetheless.

The flavors and spices explode on Fischer’s tongue delightfully. “It’s better than I would have imagined, my love,” he comments, a smile painting his features. “I have to admit, I would be curious to see what The Creator would make. I know...I know I’ve been hesitant about him, but he is your maker, your father as you’ve said. And there’s no part of you I don’t adore and cherish, min skat,” Fischer says, taking another bite of the delicious food.

“He’d make something finer than this,” Gui laughs, taking his own bite. It’s better than he thought it would be, and slowly takes another bite, and then another. “Probably something we can’t pronounce.”

Fischer grins and admires how lovely the boy looks, the fork disappearing between his plush pink lips. He knows Gui can’t help how utterly, breathtakingly beautiful he is, but it still makes his chest ache for how much he loves him. Truthfully, Fischer knows, even as Gui ages, he’s going to love him like this forever. The older man takes another bite and reaches under the table to squeeze Gui’s thigh. “I wonder what he does, when he’s not following us. Where he goes or what he’s up to. He’s an interesting person.”

“He’s terribly lonely. He attends the opera, plays his stupid Harpsichord…” Gui says, as though it’s the dullest thing ever, but he has a grin on his face. Hannibal seems dull to some, but he’s fascinating in all he does and why he does it, an enigma. Gui simply doesn’t question, he accepts.

“Wow, the harpsichord? I’d never have imagined. But it makes sense. He seems like he has very refined tastes. I guess that stuff is interesting for some. It’s not really my thing but...it’s not dull, just different.” Fischer doesn’t know why he finds himself sympathizing with the man.

Gui just gives another shrug as he shovels in meat pie, content with his creator, as minced and mashed as he is. Hannibal likes what he likes, he doesn’t really question it.

“Yeah,” Fischer mumbles between bites. He stares at Gui as he eats, in love with the passionate, exuberant and somewhat messy way the boy devours his food. “You’re the finest piece of art he ever made,” Fischer suddenly blurts out, a smitten look on his face. He swallows a bit of beer and beams his shark-toothed, crooked smile at the boy.

Gui looks up at Fischer from where his head is bowed over the plate, eyes dark as he smiled around a forkful of food. He chews and swallows slowly. “And you wonder why he’s so specific with how you needed to be for me.”

Fischer looks up at him puzzled. “What do you mean? Besides needing to be good enough for his masterpiece,” the older man says.

“That’s what I mean, exactly that,” Gui says, wiping his mouth. “He was hesitant to even let me be on my own, let alone with someone.”

“I am fortunate he approves of me, then,” Fischer says plainly, no tone of sarcasm in his voice for once. “I want to be worthy of you.”

“You _are_ ,” Gui reassures Allan, a smile on his cherubic face.

They finish dinner, and Fischer tidies up the kitchen. He pours them each a drink and bids Gui to follow him into the living room. He has a soft but well-worn sofa, brown leather, and as he sits, he pats the seat next to him. “Almost too good to be true, having you with me. I have to admit, I'm hungry for more of what we did...with that man.”

“Ravenous murder? Torture?” Gui asks, sliding up next to Fischer, curling against his larger frame. He sips his drink, watching Fischer’s features.

Fischer smirks, his dark eyes twinkling. “Both, to be honest. I’d like to hear them scream more next time, perhaps. Can’t have that in a hotel, but out in the country, no one would hear. Want you to show me how to do it to preserve more of the meat. We got a lot out of Chilton, and he didn’t even have all his organs.” The Dane wraps his arm around Gui’s shoulders and takes a swig of his cocktail.

Gui smiles at Fischer. He’s still learning about the harvesting himself, as usually he only takes the hearts. “I’ll have to get instructions from the Creator.”

“Do you think he’s pleased with me? At least, ok with me anyway?” Fischer asks. He thinks now how he actually does want the man’s approval. He never has wanted such a thing from anyone, always a rebel, always bucking authority. It is likely his intense love for Gui that’s made him feel this way.

“I think so,” Gui says with laugh, and kisses Fischer’s cheek for that. “You’d be dead otherwise.” Lecter is very particular of people, nice to their face, but Gui knows he has no one to impress anymore, nor hide his true form from.

The Danish man laughs, setting down his now empty glass and pulling Gui against him a little closer. He peppers little kisses down the boy’s neck lovingly. “I’m pretty lucky then,” he says. Not only lucky to be alive, but lucky to have his wicked treasure, Gui.

Gui smiles wickedly, and straddles Fischer’s lap, eyes roving over his face slowly. “You are.”

Fischer pulls Gui’s face to his and licks across the seam of his lips, pressing inside and moaning greedily. He hums with pleasure and then gently shoves the boy off his lap to seat him on the sofa, sliding to the carpet, between Gui’s knees, pushing them apart with a twinkle in his eyes. “Maybe you’re lucky too?” he asks with a smirk, mouthing over the crease of his fly.

Gui has never found himself more lucky than the day he saw Fischer in the alley. His hands card through Fischer’s hair and he stares down at him with dark, lust blown eyes. “Very lucky…” he whispers, breath hitching.

“If I could spend every day of the rest of my life worshiping you, it wouldn’t be enough, you know that?” the Dane growls, pulling down Gui’s fly with his teeth. He slips his big hands inside the waistband, easing them over his slender hips as he lifts the boy ever so slightly. The boy’s cock, still soft but hardening slowly, lies along his thigh. He noses along it’s length, inhaling Gui’s scent as though it’s the richest, most expensive perfume on earth.

The boy spreads his thighs, kicking off his jeans. “I know when you tell me.” He anticipates Fischer’s moves, but mostly waits, wanton and licking his lips.

Fischer moans softly, rubbing his plush lips over the pink, sensitive organ, his tongue slipping out to taste him. He flicks over the head, massaging Gui’s scrotum as he wraps his mouth over the tip and swirls around him, savoring the experience of feeling the young man’s cock throb to life.

Hands dig deep into Fischer’s shoulders, scratching down his solid back up to his neck again, over and over. Gui cants his hips into his mouth, the slow progression starts to get to him, and all he wants is feel more of Allan’s volcanic mouth.

The Danish man relaxes his jaw, hallowing his cheeks as he swallows more of Gui. He can't get enough of him, never has been able to, and never will. As the boy swells to full hardness on his tongue, Fischer sucks with more pressure, the scratches of the boy's nails on his shoulders sending a heat between his own legs that he can't control. He hums as he begins bobbing his head more, flattening the strong, slippery muscle along the front ridge, pulsing his tongue rhythmically along thick veins that run up the sides. As he cups a large hand around the base of Gui, squeezing, he feels a perfect, salty drop of pre come drip down, and he chases it to not miss a single taste of his beloved. “Nothing tastes as good as you,” Fischer mutters, pulling off Gui for a breath.

Gui watches as his breath quickens, and then pulls Fischer up to him to taste himself on his tongue, groaning out with pure need. “No?” He knows the answer, but Gui always loves to hear the answer, to hear Fischer repeat the words to the boy, over and over again.

Fischer bobs his head faster up and down Gui's length, rolling the boy's plump balls in his hand. He doesn't let up the pace of his lips, squeezing every inch of Gui as he sucks. He desperately want to make Gui come like this, wants to taste him again and again.  

It doesn’t make much and Gui is tugging hard on Fischer’s hair, a warning though he knows his Allan will take it all down anyway. He grunts, pivoting hips up into the agent’s mouth, sweet heat spreading through his lower back and thighs. “Allan-”

Fischer rumbles deep in his throat, a feral, hungry growl, bruising the soft skin of his pale hips to hold him as Gui starts fucking his mouth in earnest. He knows it’s coming, by now so attuned to the boy’s body, and he relishes that tremble in his abdomen, the way his breaths gets heavier, his moans. Tugging faster at the base, the older man sucks harder, his swollen lips connected to Gui’s throbbing flesh, sweat dripping from his brow onto his thick thighs.

Finally, the blow comes, thighs tensing, back arched as his hands dig in deep to skin, and his hips press forward to try and get the very last bit of friction. Hot white heat explodes behind his eyes and it’s all he can do not to want Fischer to consume him wholly.

The older man drinks every drop greedily, letting Gui buck into him with the staccato jerks of his body, milking him with his hot mouth. Slowly, Fischer pulls off the boy, come dripping down his chin, and he licks his lips to get every bit. Swallowing visibly, he leans back on his heels to stare at the sheer beauty of his wicked angel, curls askew and clinging to his brow, nostrils flared and the petals of his lips parted as he gasps for breath. “My angel. Wicked, wicked angel,” he says quietly, rubbing Gui’s thighs.

Gui pulls Fischer in and kissed the taste off his lips, panting even still, against his mouth, but he hates not being close to him, especially after intimate moments. “Allan… _my_ Allan.”


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it dearies. But Gui and Allan will be back, please follow the series to come!

LaCour has spent hours, all weekend, pouring over the internet, pulling files from all his sources, and coming up completely empty on Fischer’s “Gui”. He rubs his face in exhaustion; the man knows when something's not right, and he got a very odd feeling from the handsome young man. There had to be a reason why, for all intents and purposes, this kid doesn’t even exist. 

He decides to go talk with his old friend. Perhaps it will settle him, ease his worry. 

As he pulls up to Fischer’s cottage, he doesn’t see his old piece of shit car in the driveway, but goes up to knock anyway; there’s no answer. He peers through the window, but his instincts are prodding him, telling him to pick the lock and go inside. The brunet walks to the back door, the one that goes through the kitchen, and kneels down, working the lock open fairly easily with a small tool from his pocket.

It’s not as though he’s never been here before, they were friends after all, many a night tossing back beers and swapping stories. LaCour makes his way around the small island in the kitchen, walking into the living room. Just to be safe, he calls out, “Hello?” but no...no one is here. 

He moves to the bedroom next, feeling as though something is very very wrong. He hates when he feels this way, that sinking, sick sensation. He opens a nightstand drawer, chuckling as he sees a small purple bottle of lube. He closes it with a blush, careful not to leave fingerprints, his latex gloves on now. The man walks to the closet door and opens it. Just clothes, Fischer’s and Gui’s. He pushes aside a few shirts and something catches his eye. Light from the sun coming in the window reflects off something, something in the back. _ Are there shelves back here,  _ he wonders to himself as he pushes the hangers aside. 

***

Fischer is just coming back from the market with groceries for their dinner. He sees LaCour’s car in the driveway and immediately gets a very, very bad feeling. Thomas showing up unannounced can’t be good. 

He enters cautiously, carrying his grocery bags and quietly moving into the kitchen. “Hello?” he calls out, but hears nothing. The Dane is glad, for once, Gui is not here right now.

As he moves into the bedroom, he sees LaCour standing with his back to him, clothes pushed aside, right in front of rows and rows of jars lining the shelf at the back of the closet. Jars all containing human hearts.

“You shouldn’t have come here, Thomas,” he says finally. He has his gun in his holster, beneath his arm, under his leather coat.

LaCour stumbles backwards, his eyes wide and glassy, looking at Fischer in shock. “What have you done?” he asks incredulously. 

“I can’t ask you to understand. I don’t expect you to. You cannot imagine what’s happened, how much I’ve changed, how free I am now,” Fischer says, shaking his head as he approaches the other man. Even as the words leave his mouth, a chill settles over him, something akin to a cold, clammy embrace; it’s a sickness that settles in his belly like lead. He will never give up Gui. He’ll admit to everything himself before he will ever implicate Gui. Still, the idea of being separated from him is unfathomable. He can’t let it happen.

LaCour stands there, arms sticking straight out at his sides. “I have to turn you in, Fischer. You know I have to.”

“No,” says a younger voice from behind them. Gui is standing there with his blade in hand, large, daunting and clearly well honed and used. “You don’t have to do anything. You’ve made a grave mistake even coming here to snoop around.”

LaCour draws his gun, hands shaking slightly, pointing it at Gui. “Put the knife down, Gui,” he says quietly. No sooner has he drawn his weapon then Fischer's is out. He holds it straight at the man. 

“Don’t even fucking think about it, Thomas. You...you shouldn’t have ever come here.” His voice is flat and cold, and right now his only objective is protecting the beautiful young man. 

Though Gui is not afraid of death, he is afraid of leaving Fischer without him, without really seeing his whole becoming. The boy holds his knife at his side, chest heaving. “He can’t arrest someone that doesn’t exist, Fischer…”

“I’m not here to arrest you, Gui. Fischer’s indicted he...did you  _ both _ do this then?” LaCour asks, his long face now pale with panic. 

Fischer moves closer to LaCour slowly. “Drop the gun. I’m only asking you once, Thomas,” he says. 

LaCour only stares at Gui as the boy takes a running jump at him, his face twisted. “Allan, I’m sorry,” he manages to whisper, firing the gun at Gui, taking the risk that Fischer wouldn’t dare shoot his own best friend, his partner.

Without a second thought, the instant he sees LaCour’s finger move, Fischer fires twice into his chest, causing LaCour’s aim to jar to one side, only hitting Gui in the shoulder. In a split second, both men are down, but it’s very clear, immediately, LaCour’s injuries are far more severe. Crimson pools rapidly over his chest and around his back, his eyes blinking up in shock at Fischer.

The impact is enough to drop Gui to his knees, holding his shoulder, knife on the ground at his side as blood starts to pool and pour from the wound. He manages only a wince as he watches the scene unfurl in front of him.

Fischer flies to Gui’s side immediately, trying to cradle him as he falls. He immediately sees the wound is not to a life threatening area, but even still, he clutches Gui’s face desperately. “I have you, I have you, you’ll be alright, “ he’s babbling quickly, words coming out faster than he can pronounce them. LaCour lays sputtering on the floor, his glassy eyes fading as his pulse stills.

Fischer knows he  _ should  _ be feeling remorse, anger, horror, but all he feels is relief that Gui is not the one laying there dead. Relief and exhilaration. His own heart is racing as he holds Gui. 

“I’m okay,” Gui manages, the pain is nothing, he can hardly notice it, honestly. He nuzzles Allan’s face, wanting to be sure  _ he _ is okay. “What do you want to do?” 

Fischer's mind is running as fast as his heart. He sees the body laying there, his old friend, yet his only concern is whether the man told anyone he was coming, voiced concerns to anyone. “We have to get rid of the body, clean this place up.”

“Do you want to honor him?” Gui asks. “We need to find out if anyone knows where he was going, Allan.”

Fischer crawls over to LaCour’s body, carefully peeling the gloves off, and puts them on. He rifles through his pockets until he finds his cell phone, knuckling over the screen, looking through his recent calls and texts, emails, anything he can find.   
  
“Nothing in here.” he slowly looks up at Gui. “Honor him? How?”

“Eating every bit of him, using every part,” Gui offers. “That’s how the Shrike did it.”

He looks at his friend, the life gone from him. There’s something strangely beautiful about what Gui is saying, honoring him, using every part. “He used to be my best friend. It seems fitting to consume some of him. In a way he can be with me forever, then. What a beautiful idea. Perhaps...we can put his heart in one of the jars, if it’s intact enough.” The Dane doesn’t feel sadness, but exhilaration at what he’s done and what he’s about to do. Fischer looks up at Gui and cradles the boy’s chin in his hands. “You’re so beautiful, Gui. So smart and breathtaking, min skat.”

Gui doesn’t like the idea of Fischer keeping his friend with him forever, but it’s better than the alternative of having to dispose of him and not be found out. Gui nods his head against Allan’s hands and swallows hard. “We have to use all of him, and disintegrate the bones.”

Fischer stands and looks around, then makes his way to the kitchen, tipping his head for Gui to follow. “Perhaps we should do this in the work shed, where the floor can be cleaned more easily,” he says, gathering garbage bags and bleach. “Do you have your...tools? For taking him apart?” he asks Gui. It doesn’t even sound strange to him anymore. It seems as natural as anything, and he knows it’s the intense influence Gui has had on him.  

Gui nods and runs off to find his tools, hidden under a floorboard in the kitchen; he takes them out back into the shed and starts to lay them out. Once he’s done, he goes back inside to help Fischer with the body.

Fischer’s dragging LaCour’s heavily limp body by the feet, and he’s grateful when Gui returns. They get the man into the work shed, Fischer watching the road cautiously; there’s seldom any traffic out here, but he knows they can’t be too careful. He clears the floor and lays trash bags down, pulling the body atop to make cleanup easier once they are done. 

Gui starts to wish Hannibal was around, that he was here to show them how to do this properly.  Organs are easy, dismembering someone is not. He starts with a scalpel once they’ve stripped Fischer’s friend down to nothing and put the clothes in a metal trash can and set it on fire.

“We’ll need a jar for the heart…”

Fischer locates a few mason jars on a shelf, ironically there left over from when Mille used to can for them. He empties the nails out of one, and hands it to Gui, watching him work. “I...I don’t know what to do, but I can help. I can do the feet,” he says, taking a small hand held bone saw and beginning the removal. 

“It’s easiest at the joints, I think,” Gui says and goes to fill the jar with the bucket of fluid Hannibal has left in the shed for this occasion.

Fischer nods, remembering what he can from his youth, hunting with his father and cleaning game. He holds the saw steadily, but dismembering the man’s feet proved be harder than he anticipated, and as the blade tore through his papery tissue and subsequent bone, he leaned into it harder until finally the first appendage came free. He paused, panting for a moment, before continuing with the next one.

Gui takes his time to get every organ out, splayed out on a tray for now, The liver, the lungs, each carefully removed without cuts being made into the tissue. The creator would be proud, he’s sure of that. Next, the kidneys.

Fischer wishes he could be of more use and is out of his element, but removes the feet without too much mess, and stands back to watch Gui work. Only a few months old, but yet he does a skilled job of removing the organs. Perhaps not as cleanly as a surgeon like Hannibal might, but still, with impressive precision. 

He goes inside to get some glass food storage containers and comes back out with them, holding them for Gui to place the edible organs in. “We can make a fine Offal with some of this,” he comments. “LaCour had no vices and was healthy, I’m sure they will be good.” Even as he says it, a small part of him is shocked, but it quickly dissipates.

“Then he’ll make for some great meals,” Gui says, putting each organ into the containers. “They should freeze well, too. We can cut pieces from his back, too, legs…just like a cow, or a pig…”

The older man looks at Gui with nothing but love and admiration in his eyes. There was a time he would have thought butchering a man on the floor of his work shed was the farthest thing from romantic, but now it seemed utterly different. “Perhaps Hannibal can offer us some recipes. He seems to really know cooking. I know some old Danish recipes but I could stand to learn more...”

Gui grins over at Fischer, finishing the very last of the edible organs. He starts to cut away the skin around the ribs, sure they could definitely sure these too. “Chili. Barbecue…”

Fischer chuckles. “That sounds good, min skat.” He paused, looking towards the window as he heard a car drive by, though they didn’t stop. “I wonder if Hannibal knows.”

“Of course he knows,” Gui says with a grin, putting the ribs down onto a tray.

The two men continue working until very little of anything recognizable remains. Fischer packs the containers into a freezer in the shed; it had once held meats and food for his family, storage for leftovers, and now was filled with various parts of his former friend and partner. It seems not at all unnatural, and he doesn’t stop to dwell on the circumstances long. He has too many other things to be concerned with. “If you clean this up, I will work on the bedroom,” he says, bending down to kiss Gui on the cheek affectionately.

“I’ll take care of the rest here,” Gui assures Fischer and smiles at the kiss, eyes big, bright, and blue. He starts to gather up bones and fragments, tossing them all into a large can with a container of fluids left behind, to melt it all down.

Fischer goes to the bedroom carrying bleach and scrub brushes, and after about an hour of scrubbing, looks around as everything looks just as it did before. The scent of chemicals in the air is really all that would indicate anything had even happened. 

He finds his way to the bathroom to clean up, shedding his clothes to shower. It’s been a long day, one with an outcome he’d never anticipated. He looks in the mirror at himself, naked now, at his face, and doesn’t recognize himself. He’s changed so much. He doesn’t feel guilt, again, though he wonders if he should. 

Lecter lets himself and helps the boy get everything disposed of and then checks Fischer's handy work. _ Perfect _ . He sends Gui to clean himself up and then takes the LaCour’s car keys left out with one gloved hand, and leaves. The car would be found far far from here.

Gui waits until the Creator is gone and then shuffles into the shower behind Fischer, long arms wrapping  around him, head against his back. “It's all done.”

Fischer lets out a long exhale, craving the touch of his angel, and pulls his wrist to his lips to kiss his skin tenderly. Suddenly, he remembers, LaCour’s car in the driveway. “The car…” he starts, turning to face Gui. 

“It’s taken care of,” Gui whispers, hands running up Fischer’s scarred body, hand over his heart where his initials are carved. “All of it’s taken care of.”

Fischer cups Gui’s face in his hands, staring into his eyes deeply. They are so wide and innocent, his face nearly cherubic, free of any such things as guilt, simply beautiful and pure. The Dane is struck in that moment, as he has been so many times, the preciousness of Gui’s youth, how powerful and vulnerable he is all at once. He dips his chin and captures the young man’s mouth with his own, holding his hand over his heart. 

The boy hums, caught in the moment of what he can only assume is awestruck love. Torn apart at the seams with it, Gui kisses Allan back, slowly, tamed, not rushed. “Allan,” he whispers, breathing softly against his mouth.

Warm water trickles over their bodies as Fischer slowly backs Gui against the shower wall and plunders his mouth roughly, his tongue sliding inside as his hand twist into Gui’s damp curls. “My treasure,” he gasps between biting kisses.

Gui groans, gasping as he’s pushed back, grasping for Fischer as he wraps long limbs around his lover, and delves into his mouth hotly for more. “Fuck me…”

Fischer lifts Gui’s right legs, one hand bracing under his thick thigh, rocking into him. His cock is already hard, but of course it had been as soon as Gui stepped into the shower with him, such was the powerful effect the boy had on him. Crushing their cocks between them, Fischer pulls his leg around his waist and reaches behind him to rub his finger between Gui’s round cheeks.

Head lolling back, Gui grunts, reaching above him for the lube, pushing it into Fischer’s hand, needily. He doesn’t want the foreplay, the foreplay was the killing, the dismembering, the blood, the guts… 

Realizing Gui wants exactly what he’s asked for, the man takes the lube and quickly slicks himself up. “Fuck, min skat, you know what you want, don’t you,” he says, setting it back down on the shelf and lining himself up to thrust into Gui, his cock pushing and slipping inside. Fischer gasps as he’s sucked into the boy’s wet heat immediately. 

“Always do,” Gui managed, with a little gasp, leg up around Fischer’s hip. “Harder-”

Fischer bends his knees and begins rolling his hips torturingly slow but harder, panting against the long porcelain column of Gui’s neck. He traps Gui’s leaking cock between their bodies, grunting with effort as he fucks his wicked angel with increasing abandon. 

“Allan-” Gui manages as he fucked hard and slow, just the way he likes it in times like this, wanting to feel every last bit of him, the way Fischer’s cock feels sliding in him, over and over...He grasps hard to his shoulder, both legs up as his back supports his weight.

Fischer lifts Gui higher, his forearms wrapped under Gui’s thighs, bracing him against the wall and supporting more of his weight. The older man is using gravity, hiking him up, pistoning into him in quick jerks. He’s too far gone, to close to his own pleasure to take more time with this, and it’s clear Gui is as frantic and heated as he is. “For helvede, Gui, you’re always so tight,” he grunts, ass muscles flexing. 

Pleasure builds and spread through the boy’s loins and thighs, already threatening to tear through him. He moans, gasping and chanting Allan’s name until all he can do is pant. He’s so close he can taste it.

Fischer can feel the thick head of his cock brushing over Gui’s small, almond shaped gland inside, and can hear the young man through the rush of blood and rough moans spilling from his own lips. Danish and English curses come out, his teeth bared against Gui’s throat as he sinks them into the soft flesh. It gives way easily under the assault, and he laps rabidly over the small wound. “Gui, Gui, Gui…”  

Cock forced between them, rubbing against the swollen head as his prostate was pounded, Gui finally comes, gasping as Fischer’s teeth sink deep into his skin, and it’s all he can do not to crawl gleefully right out of his own skin and pool into hot, melted lava from the intensity of the pleasure.

Fischer is seconds behind the exquisite beauty, and pumps his load inside Gui, his grip bruising his slender hips, teeth marking him yet again. Licking over the beads of blood dripping down his neck, he doesn’t yet relax his hold on him. “I can’t get enough of you, ever, Guillaume, never,” he sighs heavily.

“You’ll never have to,” Guis reassures, groaning at the bites, the licking, everything that Fischer does to him, the boy cannot ask for more, but knows he will anyway. He always will.

"Mine forever?” Fischer asks, his fingertips tracing the scars of his initials over the boy’s hairless chest. He cannot even imagine a world or life without his wicked angel. Fischer is so in love, but it’s more than that, if there can be such a thing. He feels his soul is entwined and tied to Gui.

“And after,” Gui promises, reaching to touch Fischer’s chest in turn, palm against his heart.

***

Two days had passed before he got the phone call from Ingrid - LaCour was missing. No one had seen him or heard from him, no notes on his desk, his laptop is clean. She said she was trying to not jump to conclusions, but she had a feeling something was wrong. The last time he’d disappeared like this was when he was losing his mind, thinking he’d killed someone. She was worried for his mental state, wherever he was. 

Fischer acts concerned and offers to help any way he can, but it means he has to leave and go into the city again. He hates this, but has no choice - he has to ensure they stay off Gui’s tail-- off  _ him _ . 

“I’ll be back as soon as I can, angel,” he says with a small, sad huff.

“It’s fine,” the boys says, blinking big eyes at Fischer with a hefty sigh.

***

He has to admit, Hannibal is good. His team is running circles, having found his car in a different part of the country with no trace of evidence anywhere. It’s been made to look like a random act of violent crime, but without a body, the case is remaining under investigation. 

Fischer finally comes to Ingrid, looking like a man in grief. “I don’t know if I can stay on the case. I want to find what happened to him but….I’m too close to this.”

She agrees. “Take some time off, Fischer. This has been hard on all of us, but no one more than you. You were his partner and friend. Go home, Allan, go home to that sweet boy of yours,” she concludes, finally hugging him.

***

During his time off, Fischer is able to locate some of the men from Horsens - nasty drug dealers, gang members - and plants key pieces of evidence to implicate them. The team identifies the men as LaCour’s murderers, and while they vehemently claim innocence, the DNA evidence is irrefutable. The trial is short; the vicious murder of a respected Danish police detective coupled with the compelling “proof” seems to be their undoing, and Fischer is nothing short of relieved.

“So someone else is taking the fall for us?” Gui asks, smiling brightly over at Fischer as he sets the paper down after reading the article. Hannibal would be proud. 

“Yes, min skat. It seems so, thanks to the help of Hannibal’s thorough clean up, and my work redirecting the investigation.” Fischer takes another bite of a delicious recipe the doctor had given them for liver.

They've been living well enough too with all the meat they had to eat now. Gui takes a bite, smiling over at Fischer. “Good. Someone deserving I bet.”

“When I was in prison, there were men that were torturously cruel to me, particularly knowing I was a cop. Drug dealers, gang members. Organized crime. I was undercover for over a year before my cover was blown and everything was fucked. Plenty of contacts from those days to pick from,” Fischer leans forward and wipes a bit of food from the corner of Gui’s lip affectionately. “We’ll have enough food for weeks, my treasure,” he smiles. “And no one to bother us about it here, either. Not anymore. So, where  _ is  _ Hannibal?” 

Gui shrugs his shoulders, mysteriously, taking another bite of food as he looks around their house. “Who knows? He doesn’t tell me where he goes.”

Fischer turns it over and over again in his mind, the conversation he knows he wants to have with Gui’s ‘Creator’. He has to attempt to contact him, though he doesn’t want Gui to know, not yet anyway. He resolves that when Gui is asleep, he will get his phone number from Gui’s phone and send him a text. “Well, if he’s nearby, I hope he’s enjoying himself,” he remarks playfully.

“He usually does,” Gui says, finishing his meal and then downs his beer, before gathering up their dishes, taking them to the sink in the next room to clean, phone left behind on the table.

Fischer looks at Gui as he’s cleaning the dishes, quickly taking the chance to look at his phone as he is distracted. Immediately he sees The Creator’s number, and commits it to memory as he sets the device back down, pulling out his own phone to plug the digits in. Gui is still busy in the kitchen, so Fischer takes the extra moment to send a text.

_ It’s Fischer. Gui doesn’t know I’m contacting you. I’d like to arrange a time to meet, privately. _

He hits send and takes a long swig of his beer, tucking his phone back into his pocket as Gui returns to the table with two new beers in hand, and smiles at Fischer as he plops himself down in his chair once more.

“All cleaned up, what should we do?” Gui tucks his phone away into his pocket just as Fischer’s goes off.

_ Are we deliberating behind the the boy’s back or are we discussing him at length at this meet? _

Fischer looks at his phone and up at Gui, his bright blue eyes are blinking at him as innocently as if he were a child. He huffs a little, wrinkling his nose in irritation. “Ah. It’s fucking work, uh….let me go handle this and I’ll be right back, min skat,” he says, getting up and leaning down to kiss Gui on the forehead before leaving out the kitchen door, scrolling through his phone. 

_ It’s about Gui, yes, something I need to ask you, want to keep it between us for now.  _

Fischer pauses and leans against the back door, suddenly regretting his decision - made recently, at Gui’s convincing insistence - to quit smoking. He’s craving one furiously as he waits for Lecter to reply. 

The boy merely watches, and then wanders off to the living room to entertain himself.

Fischer’s phone chimes once again.

_ Something that requires a personal invite. I can meet you anywhere of your liking, name a time and place. _

Fischer sighs and mentions a local place, he’s been to a few times. He knows the owner and knows mid week, late at night, no one will ask questions about him having a drink with the Doctor. 

_ Pub Finn in Skørping, tomorrow at 10. It’s a dive bar, but drinks are on me. _

He grimaces at how cheesy that sounds after he sends it wincing and hoping Lecter won’t think badly of him, though at this point, it’s probably too late for that. Whatever he thinks, he’s made up his mind. Fischer just hopes he’s impressed him enough.

He walks back inside to Gui, finding him on the couch, and grins broadly at him, his heart beating a little faster. He sits down and pulls the boy into his lap to kiss him. “All yours again,” he says, nipping kisses down Gui’s neck affectionately.

“More questions?” Gui asks, straddling Fischer’s lap, blissfully happy, and unaware.

“One of the men they arrested has been talking to his lawyer, trying to get me to come in and talk to him. Of course, our legal representation wants nothing to do with it, but they still need to let me know. Ingrid wants to meet me tomorrow night after work, with Ulf, to discuss what happens if they need me on the stand. Not likely they will, but, a precaution,” he replies, surprised at how easily the little white lie comes to him. Of course, in no other circumstance would he dream of lying, but he can’t let Gui knows he’s meeting with Hannibal. Not yet.

“Oh okay. So… you won't be home until late then,” Gui says, mischief in his eyes at the thought of being left alone for a while.

Fischer grins at Gui, recognizing that look. “Not until quite late, no,” he chuckles, rubbing his hands over the boy’s ass and slapping playfully. “Just be careful, love,” he adds quietly, kissing him softly.

“I’m always careful,” Guis whispers, arching his hips against Fischer’s at the slap.

Fischer’s long dark hair falls in his face a bit and he brushes it away as he smirks, staring down at Gui’s lips. “Are you truly happy with me, min elskede? I want you to be happy. I love you more than anything I have ever, you know that,” the older man says, rubbing a thumb thoughtfully over Gui’s chin.

“Yeah,” Gui says a little apprehensive. Fischer, he knows, can be sensitive and romantic, things Gui is still trying to get used to. “Happiest I know I can be. Don't wanna live without you.”

Fischer swallows and nods. He gets caught up in sentimentality but sniffs and smiles warmly. He’s making the right decision. There’s none other, really, for them. “Good. Nor I without you. We were meant to be together, my love.” He nips along the boy’s sharp jawline, grinning brightly. “And so, what is my devilish little beauty going to get up to tomorrow night, then?”

It is too soon to do too much, Gui knows this, but he shrugs anyway, loving to see what sort of worry he can extract from Fischer. “I don’t know yet…”

The Dane furrows his brow conspicuously. “I trust you’ll find worthy prey. I just love watching you work, thinking of you work. You’re breathtaking, Gui. Like with that man in the city. I often wish I’d have gotten to see you in that apartment you had back in the states, when we first met.” He rubs his hands up and down Gui’s arms. “I’m grateful Lecter taught you so well, my beloved.”

“I would hate to get caught so soon after not getting caught,” Gui says with smirk, palming down Fischer’s chest. “You’re okay with the Creator then?” The cants his head, curious.

“I think he likes me, or at least doesn’t  _ hate _ me, which is probably as good as I can hope for considering you are his prized son,” Fischer grins. “And I believe the old gent has grown on me. He did save me. And he is responsible for bring you into my life. Perhaps I’m ok with him, yes,” Fischer says finally, winking at Gui.

"He likes you. Or you'd be dinner already,” Gui laughs, throwing his arms around Fischer to kiss him properly.

Fischer hums happily against the young man’s neck. “There’s one way I  _ like _ to be eaten. Although I’d let you choose any way you want, I  _ do _ have a preference,” he says coyly.

 

Gui grins wider and bites at Fischer’s lips, teasingly. “I could do both.”

***

The next evening Lecter waits at the appointed meeting spot for the Agent, dressed in a tan suit and a matching hat to disguise himself, but no less gentlemanly. He crosses one leg over his knee, patiently waiting while sipping a nice chianti.

Fischer sees the doctor as soon as he strolls in; the well-dressed man sticks out conspicuously in the small town watering hole. He walks up to the bar, nodding to acknowledge Lecter, and flags down the barkeep for a beer. Upon receiving it, he takes a seat next to him at the small table in the quiet corner Hannibal has discreetly chosen. He tips the bottle towards him congenially. “Good evening, Doctor,” he begins.

“Agent,” Lecter replies, head canted toward the other man, curious as to what this might entail, seeing as the boy was not invited.

Fischer sighs, trying to calm his nerves by taking a long swig from his beer. He knows there’s no point in pretense with Lecter, that he sees through everything just like Gui does, and none of the bullshit suits the Dane either. “I’ll get right to the point. I wanted to see you about Gui. I’ve told you how much he means to me. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for him, nothing I wouldn’t sacrifice. I would and will protect him with my life. I think you’ve seen it. I don’t know if...if I’ve conveyed or proven myself to you.”

“Do you feel you must prove yourself, Agent Fischer?” Lecter asks, casually taking another sip of his wine, but his eyes are on the other man, as if seeing right through him, the question merely for the sake of hearing it.

“In truth? Yes, I do. You’re Gui’s father, are you not? His maker. Doctor…” Fischer sighs and takes another long drink of beer, draining it and setting it down on the table. “I want to ask Gui to marry me. I need your blessing...I think it will matter to him, and yes, it matters to me.” Fischer levels his gaze at Lecter sincerely, utterly transparent, guilelessly honest and open.

The doctor levels his gaze on the other man as he tilts his wine glass, watching the crimson liquid. There is little he would do for Gui, his precious creation whom he’s grown quite fond of, and cares for more than he would admit. A clone of a man he loved, but Gui is not Will Graham, he’s just a piece of him, not a whole.

“Marriage is very binding.”

Fischer nods. “That's exactly why I want to marry Gui. I’ve asked him if he’s happy, he tells me he is. I wouldn’t force him to be with me if he weren’t. I can’t fathom living without him. I’m sure you know about...this....” Fischer loosens the buttons on his shirt to attempt to discreetly show the scar on his chest where Gui’s initials are carved. “This is permanence. If there were any other way I could show my devotion, I would, and this is the only way I know how, Doctor Lecter.” The Dane was emotional as he thought of the boy. “I love him with everything I have, to the point where I know it could be my own undoing, and I won’t put him at risk for it. But I just... _ I want to marry him _ .”

Lecter knows the feelings well enough, setting his glass down he steeples his fingers contemplatively, leaning over with his feet flat to the ground now. “The boy has marked you as his own. Scarred you. Made you his, in his mind he is already married to you, so I don’t see why I should not allow it.”

Fischer is near tears as he hears the words from the older man. Not exactly a ringing endorsement or joyous blessings, but under the circumstances, likely the best he can hope for. “I’m grateful. I know it’s not easy, but I want you to know, I am aware the ramifications of ever betraying him, and I assure you, it would hurt me more, on a deeper level. I couldn’t. I can’t live without him, he knows that.” Fischer knows he’s being dramatic but, not getting much of a reaction out of the stoic man, he finally sighs. It’s as good an outcome as he can expect.  “Thank you. So, will you stay on here?” he asks, flagging down the barkeep to bring them another round.

“Long enough to see that you two are not found out. The very last thing I need is for the boy to be taken into custody,” Hannibal replies, his eyes never leaving the agent. “That is a mess I do not wish to clean up.”

Fischer’s eyes become more serious and focused quickly. “With my knowledge and connections, it’s far less likely, and honestly, I’d never allow that to happen. No matter  _ what _ I have to do.”

“I do not doubt you, but in the instance that you may fail and find yourself in jail, who saves Guillaume then?” the Doctor quirks a near invisible brow at Fischer, mostly curious. He has no intention on anything happening to either of them.

“I know if anything were to happen to me, you’d...please, Doctor Lecter...Gui told me you had…” Fischer’s voice begins to tremble. “He said you’d  _ terminated _ the other clones that failed. Please tell me you wouldn’t do that to him?” There’s a pleading, begging tone to Fischer’s words. “You’d take care of him, but you wouldn’t destroy him?”

“Why would I destroy a perfect creature after so much had gone into training and watching over him?” Lecter asks, leaning forward with his voice low, as not to be overheard. “Marry the boy and he becomes your responsibility.”

The Dane exhales in relief and nods vehemently. “I take responsibility, yes. Of course. If anything does happen to me….nothing will….but if it does, I know you will take care of him. But he’s in my charge,” Fischer replies, not taking his eyes off the older man even as the waitress deposits a bottle of beer and second glass of Chianti at their table.

“He will be your husband,” Lecter comments and thanks the waitress for his new glass of wine, swirling it in one hand.

A lovestruck smile comes over Fischer’s face. He isn’t the least bit self-conscious, as all he can think about now is his excitement over the next steps. Now that he knows Lecter at least approves of their union, he can focus on all the other elements. “Yes, he will. And I’m his, completely his.”

“I see no issue in offering my blessing,” Lecter says and sits back once more, admiring the color of the wine in his glass.

Fischer finally looks over at Lecter again, refusing to acknowledge any similarities in their physical appearances. The man does resemble him, but the Dane is too wrapped up in his plans as to how exactly he’s going to ask the handsome young man. “Don’t think it’s going to be anything more than just something small for the two of us, but it would be nice, once I’ve asked him, to have you over for dinner if you’d join us? I’ve been wanting to try your …. _ cooking… _ if you know what I mean?” Fischer grinned with a twinkle in his eye. “We’ve been trying some recipes here and there but, I’m not exactly you know….”

Lecter blinks, head canted. “You wish to invite me over for dinner to cook for  _ you _ ?”

Fischer looks down embarrassed. “Oh….I’m...I’m sorry...Gui...you…” The agent is clearly aware he’s made a bit of a social faux pas and doesn’t know how to clear it up. He clears his throat. “No, that wouldn’t be right. Two separate contexts, I guess. We’d like to have you for dinner, I’m...we’re not much for cooking, but we’ll do our very best, our treat as our guest of honor. Someday, though, if you’d be so kind, I’d be grateful to try your cooking. Sorry, I’m excited about asking Gui...guess I’m preoccupied,” he rambles on, his tawny cheeks tinged bright pink.  

“Do not worry yourself over it, I suppose I could forgive the rude just this once,” the Doctor replies with a hint of smirk on his face, amused. “It would be my pleasure, of course to provide a meal on your wedding day, if I am so invited to be there.”

Fischer smiles. “Can’t think of who else we’d have over. Thank you, Doctor.” The younger man drains his beer and sets it down, appearing to try and kill time, avoiding something. “Is there, any advice you have for me? I admit I’m nervous. I am sure...well, I hope he’ll say yes. I know I’ll give him everything I have, he owns my soul….but….” the agent spreads his hands, not even sure himself what he’s asking for.

“The boy is simple, Agent Fischer. Flowery has never been his forte, nor to his liking. Direct approaches will leave you with better results,” Lecter offers, finishing his wine, he sets down money for the drinks and stands elegantly.

Fischer picks the money up and hands it back to the Doctor. “I know it’s not much, but I did promise it was on me, Sir,” he insists, not giving the man time to protest. He thrusts his own cash into the bartender's hands and he passes.

The Dane considers Lecter’s words, knowing of course the things that stir the boy’s heart. “You’re right of course. Thank you for meeting me here tonight. I’m sure he’ll message you once I’ve asked him.” Fischer extends his hand to shake Hannibal’s genially.

The doctor takes his money back, but leaves a hefty tip, as not to be rude, and then takes Fischer’s hand, grip strong, they are nearly matching. “He may or may not. We shall see.”

Fischer pauses uncomfortably as the two men walk toward the door, and he looks as though there is more that he wants to say but can’t. Finally, he brushes the doctor arm, impulsively blurting out the question in a harsh whisper.

“I wanted to ask if there’s something else you could do for me. For us, as a gift. I know it’s a lot to ask,” Fischer says nervously. He leans in and whispers his request discreetly.

Lecter raises a brow skeptically, but the idea is fond, and something he knows Guillaume will adore more than diamonds. “Of course.”

Fischer nods gratefully. “Thank you, Doctor Lecter. It means a lot to me, to both of us.”

 

***

Fischer is by nature a romantic, and had fucked things up so badly in his past relationships; he just wants everything to be perfect with his one. This one is different in one distinct way, namely he knows he’s never loved anyone as completely as he does Gui.

He’s sent Gui to the store for some trivial ingredients just to clear him so he could set up and change. He’d already started dinner before, having conveniently ‘forgotten’ a few key things, but now as he stands looking into the mirror, adjusting his blue dress shirt and smoothing his hair, he knows of course his sharp boy will know something's going on as soon as he walks in, sees his clothes and the beautifully set table. He’ll just ask him right away. He’s too anxious and excited to wait. Thankfully he’s chosen a slow cook meal that doesn’t require a ton of attention: a crock pot leg of lamb with rosemary and thyme.  _ Since when have I become a housewife, _ Fischer thinks to himself in a mild, last-minute panic.

He’s waiting in the kitchen by the back door for Gui, looking out the window when he sees him riding up on his bike. Gui gets off and shakes his head when he sees Fischer through the window, bag in hand, and pushes the door open.

“Store was busy,” he murmurs as he shuts the door behind him, setting the bag down and looks around the small kitchen, brows knit together.

Fischer approaches Gui and holds out his hand, seeking his gaze, and takes the boy’s slender white fingers in his own, guiding him to the table to sit. “Come sit, I’d like to ask you something.”

The looks confused, setting the bag down where he stood and then sat, where Fischer leads him. “It wasn’t a big deal, Allan…”

Fischer takes the seat next to Gui at the table and holds his hands, kissing his knuckles. “No, min skat, nothing like that. I have something for you, something to ask you.” His breath is shaking and comes more heavily than he’d like, more nervous than he’s ever been in his life. He pulls a little box from his pocket and opens it with one hand, freeing a small, bronze band inlaid with a band of crimson. He holds it in his hand and looks into Gui’s eyes.

“There’s no one else I want to spend the rest of my life with, no one but you. You’re part of me permanently, and I want to be part of you. I want to know if you’d, will you marry me, Guillaume Gramercy?”

Marriage is a thing Gui knows nothing about, nothing at all. He knows they end, and they begin, and sometimes people stay married, but not usually. The thought, he finds, terrifies him and makes him excited all at once. A new adventure, a new life together. Gui finds himself shaking, too, and grasps Allan’s jaw with both hands to kiss him. “Yes.”

Fischer takes Gui’s mouth almost painfully hard and slips the ring on his finger, shaking just as hard as the boy does. Panting, he pulls away and looks down at the jewelry. “It...it has a piece of me inside. I...I asked Lecter. He performed a myocardial biopsy, took a piece of tissue from my heart, and I had it embedded in your ring. You’ll have my heart with you forever, Gui. I’m yours,” the Dane looks into Gui’s eyes deeply, his amber eyes damp with emotion. “No matter what, I’m always yours.”

The gesture is unexpected, leaving the boy somewhat disoriented for a moment as he gazes at the ring, trying to imagine it, easily able to. Gui is not often moved to tears, the emotion isn’t one he knows well, or has any real experience with, but water leaks from his eyes and he uses a free hand to wipe them. “Ya mean that?”

Fischer is overcome with emotion and pulls the boy into his arms, trembling, his hand wrapped around the back of his head. “I mean it infinitely, more than anything. I asked his permission first, to…to make you mine. There’s nothing I wouldn’t give or do for you, Gui, and I’ll never leave you, I swear,” he says softly, his voice husky and deep. He knows Gui is so young but hopes he can understand what all of this means.  

Gui knows, or, rather he knows enough. If the creator is letting him go into Fischer’s care forever, then there’s a trust that even Gui can’t deny between the three of them. Arms around Fischer, Gui kisses the side of his neck, to his jaw, grinning. “You asked his permission to marry me?”

Fischer nods quickly. “Yes, min skat, I had to. He is your creator, your maker, your father, for all intents and purposes. He gave me ample warning of how heavy a responsibility this is, and I am very aware and willing. More than willing, my beloved boy.” The Dane smiles into Gui’s kisses, returning them with insistent lips.

“You’ve been married before, you’re sure?” Gui has to know, he needs to know more than anything that he won’t be another ex, he won’t be left behind someday. Rejection is so intolerable to him, he’s not sure he wants the answer.

“Several things were very different about that marriage, Gui. For one, my job got in the way. For another, I never felt even a quarter for her what I feel for you. I’ve never felt for anyone what I feel for you, what I have for you. You, Gui, you’ve changed me in ways I couldn’t have known. I couldn’t live without you now or ever,” the older man confesses, looking Gui in the eyes as he speaks, every word full of conviction and honesty, as much as he can possibly convey.

If Fischer ever did leave, Gui would kill him. Simple as that.

“Okay, “Gui says, a whisper, convinced. He smiled broadly, and wraps arms tighter around Allan.

The agent is aware he has no way out of the relationship except through death, and he has accepted it. Should something happen to Gui, he doesn’t believe he could carry on without him, not to mention he’s certain Hannibal would kill him. There’s nothing Fischer can do about it now, but his fate was sealed the moment he approached this boy in that alley so long ago.

Gui leans in and kisses Fischer, long limbs wrapping around the agent tightly, never happier than when he’s with Fischer. “I love you, Allan Fischer.”

“Jeg elsker dig, Guillaume,” Fischer says, tucking the boy into his arms


End file.
